CD Challenge: Fallen
by MissDevon
Summary: After Warrick's caught in the crossfire of his wife's past and left fighting for his life, the rest of the team has to put the clues together to solve the crime and save his daughter.
1. Chapter 1: Going Under

What happens when the past you wanted to forget collides with the present you're living? The woman who was Natalie Vega is about to find out. . .

Disclaimer: Characters and lyrics aren't mine. I'm just borrowing them for my own, and perhaps your, amusement. . .

Fallen: Chapter 1: Going Under

A few years from now and half a country away from Lanview. . .

Flashing lights.

Yellow tape.

Police officers and men in forensics gear swarming around, asking questions. . . looking for evidence.

Searching.

Always searching . . .

She was used to it.

Was a part of it.

Only, tonight she wasn't playing her usual role in what was in many ways a well organized drama that was played out in front of a changing set.

Tonight she did not play one of the people who were asking the questions, but a victim.

And yet she wasn't. . .

She had played the victim before.

To many times 

She had been hurt before, but never like this. . .

Now I will tell you what I've done for you_  
50,000 tears I've cried  
Screaming,  
Deceiving,  
And bleeding for you  
And you still won't hear me  
....Going Under...._

Arms wrapped tightly around herself, she stood on the edge of the scene--- on the wrong side of the tape--- and watched. Her mind was working on autopilot as she catalogued the movements of her co-workers. The way one bent to mark off and pick up a bullet casing. The way another swabbed at a blood sample. How someone else picked up a gun that she would place money on was her husband's used only for target practice and worn only to keep Brass off his case service revolver. There was the flash of a camera as pictures were taken. The fight to find and preserve evidence so the quality could be brought to justice. . .

Don't want your hand this time_  
I'll save myself  
Maybe I'll wake up for once (wake up for once)  
Not tormented daily defeated by you  
Just when I thought I'd reach the bottom _

The hand on her shoulder caused her to jump slightly. Swallowing, she refused to look to see who it belonged to.

It wasn't hard for her to guess.

There were only a few who would approach her right now. Who would think of trying to pull her out of the hole she was falling into, and she didn't want to face any of them.

To allow them to see the guilt that was quietly eating away at all that she had made of herself--- or rather all that she had made of the woman that they thought her to be. . .

I'm...dying again_  
I'm going under (going under)  
Drowning in you (drowning in you)  
I'm falling forever (falling forever)  
I've got to break through  
I'm...going under_

He had been watching her on and off since his arrival and throughout his subsequent argument with the dayshift supervisor over who would be handling this particular case. They had come to a tentative agreement. One that he could live with even if the other man couldn't. He knew he would be getting a call from Mobley at some point. 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he started towards her, because right now he had another duty to perform. Calling out orders to a few o his team, he crossed the yard and ducked under the yellow tape that marked off the area with an ease of familiarity. He then turned and moved to her side. Eyes on her profile, he put his hand on her shoulder, wanting to get her to reconnect with her surroundings.

He had expected her to pull away; she didn't.

He had expected her to say something; she remained silent.

"I can have. . ." he started softly, noting how she tensed under his hold and started to pull away. His hand falling to his side as he watched as she started determinedly crossed the scene, her feet seeming to automatically keep her out of the path of evidence and various personnel. 

Bemused, he watched as she ducked under the tape and approached the dark haired man in a leather jacket. 

That bemusement turned to surprise as she stopped before him and slapped him. 

Blurring and stirring the truth and the lies_  
(So I don't know what's real)  
(So I don't know what's real and what's not )  
Always confusing the thoughts in my head  
So I can't trust myself anymore _

To say that the call hadn't surprised him would have been an understatement, the reason on the other hand had. 

In the few weeks since he had started to reinvestigate the gambling ring that had first brought him into her life due to some anonymous tips had had him mentally preparing for a call from her, in fact that was why he had made sure she had known he was in town. After all, if the ring was back in business she could be an eventual target.

But this--- this he hadn't expected.

He had thought that if there were to be a victim it would be her, but then again since he hadn't spoken to the investigators on the scene, he supposed he couldn't assume anything. For all he knew, she could have been the intended target. 

"YOU!" she spit at him as she came to a stop in front of him and raised her hand, slapping him hard across the face. "You just couldn't leave well enough alone, could? What destroying my life once wasn't good enough? You had to comeback and finish the job?"

I'm...dying again_  
I'm going under (going under)  
Drowning in you (drowning in you)  
I'm falling forever (falling forever)  
I've got to break through,_

"Well, she certainly looks happy to see him," a voice said off to his right. "Wonder what that's all about and what Brass will think of it."  
  
He turned, his blue eyes blazing slightly, "Catherine, why am I not surprised that you were the one sent to 'help' night shift out."

The red head shrugged her shoulders and smiled coyly, "well, I am second in command of day shift and know all the players involved."

"Not to mention the preconceived notions you carry."

"Some of us work with out guts, Grissom. It helps a lot in the job."

"It's the evidence that tells us what we need to know."

"And right now, the evidence is telling me that that," she paused pointing towards the woman who was collapsing into the man's arms, "is suspicious."

"That or do you still have to be the only female field CSI with any sort of power around here?"

"I'm not the one who made her leave, Gil, and I'm sick and tired of you blaming me for it. As for her," she shrugged, "I know she earned the promotion. And you know, in a way, I kinda helped, after all, my sister's the one who watches Christina nights so that she can have the freedom to do just that. See, my problem with her is that she's always been hiding something. Looks like it's finally caught up with her, and before you stay anything, that's what the evidence tells me. Not my gut. See you back at the lab," she added huffily as she slipped under the tape and stormed off.

With nothing else to do, Dr. Gil Grissom looked back signaled to the most experienced of his two CSIs. He didn't wait to see him give orders to the next most senior CSI on the case as he crossed to the broken one sitting in the arms of a man who was not her husband in the yard in front of her house. . .

I'm, so go on and scream_  
Scream at me, so far away  
I won't be broken again  
I've got to breathe  
I can't keep going under _

"Nice to see you too," John McBaine said as he raised a hand to his stinging cheek and smiled wryly. "You still have quite an arm there, Champ," he said softly as he reached out a hand and wiped at a tear he knew she didn't want him to see, yet alone acknowledge, but as usual around her, he was unable to stop himself. "Its going to be ok, we'll get whoever did this. You're going to be safe."

"ME? You think I really give a damn about my safety right now? Someone's. . . someone's tried to kill my family, John, and like last time, it should have been me."

"Don't. . ."

"We switched cars. His was acting up and since he was picking up Tina. . ." she gulped, tears running down her face as she let him pull her close and to him. Burying her head in his chest, she let her feelings flow out of her as she couldn't with anyone else, because no one else knew what she knew. No one else knew who she had been. That this was her fault, just like Christian. . .

"It's not like Christian, Natalie," he said softly into her hair as he lowered them to the grass. "He's still alive, fighting for you."

"But for how long? And what about Christina? There's blood in the car. Even if Greg rushes the results, it will take. . it will take to much time than I can bear to find out if it's her. My daughter could be out there dying or already. . . I can't lose my family again, John. I need Christina and Warrick too much. I just can't do this again."

"You won't have to, Natalie," he said softly as footsteps approached. He looked up slightly to see a man with dark hair and an older man, with gray approaching. He gazed their distance as being too far to have heard his slip, unaware of the older man's talent at reading lips, before turning his attention back to his charge. "I'll fix this. I promise. I owe you that much," he whispered into her hair.

I'm...dying again_  
I'm going under (going under)  
Drowning in you (drowning in you)  
I'm falling forever (falling forever)  
I've got to break through,_

"Even you can't fight back death," she said softly as she pulled away and brushed her hair out of her eyes before swiping at her eyes and cheeks with her hands. "But you, you work with them and you at least bring my back my daughter. You help me get her back alive, or I swear to god, John, I'll put you in a body bag myself."

Stopping about a foot away, Nick Stokes caught the tone of his sometimes partner and frowned, "Mig, you ok?"

"What the hell do you think, Nicky?" she asked as she looked at him and then past to her boss. "Gris, if that offer of a ride is still open, I think. . . I think I can manage leaving now."

Looking at her as if she were one of his bugs momentarily he nodded, "Nick or I can take you, that is if your friend, isn't willing to."

At the tone in the older man's voice, John stood placed his hands palm up in front of him, "I'm just going to get something from my pocket," he said as he slowly pulled out his wallet with one hand, his other still out, as Natalie tried to figure out why her boss and mentor seemed to be acting strangely. 

Grissom reached out and took the wallet and opened it, then turned it over to Nick. "I didn't expect the FBI to react so quickly, even for a CSI," he said evenly as Nick frowned and handed McBaine back the wallet.

"Meg helped me out on a case while she was still in college. When I saw the information come in I figured I'd help," he answered smoothly before he reached out a hand to pull 'Meg' to her feet, the look he gave her warning her not to argue. Not that she could.  
Technically, he was telling the truth. . .

"I didn't know you had helped the FBI out," Grissom said simply.

Natalie swallowed, hard, knowing the tone from sitting in with her supervisor during interrogations. "Well. . . um. . . it was a long time ago. . John had dropped a file and I recognized a list of chemicals as being the ingredients of make-up. That's about it, unless, you add the fact that he later convinced me that I should give forensics a shot instead of bartending."

"Right," Grissom sighed, "Well, then, Meg, why don't you go to Nick's car. He'll drive you to the hospital while I introduce Agent McBaine to Brass and Mobley," he sighed, not relishing the task. 

"I'll catch up in a minute, just want to tell Griss something," Nick said with a reassuring nod. 

At a look from the men, Natalie nodded, "I'll walk you," John said as he draped an arm over her shoulder.

"What do you need, Nick?"

"I've heard of John McBaine before. Gris, he's trouble," Nick informed him with a shake of his head.

"I'll be sure to look into his record, Nick. We won't let someone who can't cut it in the loop. Not with two of ours involved," Grissom reassured.

"That's just it, Grissom. He's good. Almost two good. The thing is, he tends to get people killed, or at least that's what I heard."

"From who?"

"An old friend. Seems McBaine got his brother-in-law and sister killed when things went bad on two separate investigations. I don't really know the details. Kevin was a bit drunk when he was going on about it."

"I'll keep that in mind. No go get her to the hospital. I want to know how good or bad Warrick's condition is," he ordered. He watched the younger man start to walk away and then stopped him. "Nick, what were their names?"

"What?"

"Your friend's brother-in-law and sister. What were their names?"

"Christian and Natalie Vega, why?"

"Just something to look into. . ." Gris muttered as he signaled the man to continue.

"Gil, where's Meg?" Detective Jim Brass asked, causing the CSI to turn.

"Nick's bringing her to the hospital, why?"

"We may have caught a break. One of the kids who called this in got a look at our shooter before taking off. Gave us a description. The sketch artist just finished," he said as he handed the paper with the drawing to Grissom.

"What's that?" Catherine Willows asked as she came up behind them, Greg Sanders also joined them.

"Well, Willows, isn't this a nice surprise," Brass said, tongue in check.

"Isn't it though. What've you got?"

"Witness's description," he said as he started to take the sketch from Grissom.

"Actually have a witness with a good enough account, I'm impressed," McBaine said as he joined the group and managed to get the sketch first.

"Hey," Catherine protested. "You can't just go around. . "

"Actually, I can," McBaine said simply as he tried to make out the lines in the dark. "Damn, doesn't any one have a light?"

"Grissom?" Catherine asked through clenched teeth.

"Sure," he replied as he pulled a small penlight out of his pocket and flipped it on.

"That wasn't what I meant."

"Yeah. I know. This is Special Agent John McBaine, he'll be helping us out on this."

Brass nodded at that as he took in the agent's change in expression, "you recognize the guy?"

"Yeah, I recognize him," John answered as the sound of a car passing caught their attention. As the car past, with Natalie's head pressed tiredly against the window he couldn't help but wonder how he was going to break the news to her that he could identify their one suspect.

And not only that, but that it was the presumed dead Christian Vega. . .  
  
I'm, going under (going under)_  
Going under (drowning in you)  
I'm going under_

Song credit: Going Under ~Evanescence


	2. Chapter 2: Bring Me to Life

Fallen

Chapter 2: "Bring Me to Life"

He stood at the easel, his painting taking shape as his life soon would. Pictures hanging on the walls around him gave him his inspiration. He would draw and paint a portrait of his family. Each portrait made it more real as he superimposed his image over an other's. 

As he retook his place. . .

The whimpering sound from the cot in the corner of the room caught him off guard, causing his stroke to be jarred and the image to be blurred slightly.

Angrily, he turned and started for the small feature curled into the fetal position and laying as close to the wall as she could manage. But, his steps slowed as his mother's voice floated over him. "The child's too young to know better. Teach her to do differently, don't take your anger out on her. . ."

"You're right, Mama. She has to be taught," he said aloud as if the woman was actually there with him as he let the paint brush fall to the floor. Carefully, he continued to cross the room, stopping at the cot and kneeling down next to it. "Don't cry, baby," he said softly as he reached out to brush away one of her tears, causing her to uncurl enough to look at him. . .

How can you see into my eyes like open doors?_  
Leading you down into my core_

He couldn't help but smile at how like his her dark eyes were before she once again shrunk back from him. "I want my daddy," she muttered through tears as she pushed back into the corner and away from his touch.

Her words angered him as they chilled him. Reaching out, he roughly grabbed a hold of her arms and pulled her towards him, ignoring her terrified cries. "I'm your Poppa. He's not taking you away from me again," he told her harshly, then, as he trusted her away from him and pushed to his feet, he added more softly. "Your mother will be here soon. We'll be a family then. Like we were always supposed to be. Just like we're supposed to be. . ."

Where I've become so numb_  
  
Without a soul  
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold  
Until you find it there and lead it back home_

She let Nick lead her down the hospital corridor, her mind barely registering the ciaos around her, and how could it when her whole life had become ciaos?

Reality was starting to settle over her. . .

There was no waking from this living nightmare.

She could no longer convince herself that her daughter was hiding.

Waiting for her or Warrick to call for her.

She supposed that on some level she had known it since she had arrived to find that her home had been turned into a crime scene. 

And even more so, she could no longer convince herself that Warrick's injuries were minor. Not while her footsteps took her closer and closer to an ICU waiting room.

[wake me up] Wake me up inside_  
[I can't wake up] Wake me up inside_

"Meg," Nick said softly off to her side as he placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her progress. 

Stopping, she turned her head to look at him, although she couldn't seem to focus on him. "Why don't you sit down while I go find Rick's doctor?" he suggested, even as he guided her to a nearby chair and into it.

Worriedly, he left her side and started towards the nurse's station, looking back every couple of steps to check on her. . .

She sat on the edge of the seat, her hands curled around the edge of the hard plastic. The urge to laugh or cry was bubbling up in her throat. She stubbornly fought down the need, knowing that if she gave into the urge she'd be unable to stop. She was numb, and she wanted to remain that way. 

She wanted to float away.

To forget...

She couldn't help but wonder if that was how Vickie felt before a break. Before Nikkie or another alter over took her personality. 

The only thing was, she didn't have to let go of one personality for another to take over. She carried three around inside her at all times. She was at once Natalie Balssom, Natalie Buchanan, and Meghan Jessica Davis-Brown. Each so different from the other, and yet so a like. Two hidden beneath the guise of one now back to haunt her so that she wasn't sure if she was one or more than one of those people any more. In truth, she wasn't even sure if she was even one of them at the moment.

After all, each had been defined by a family.

Each part had lost a piece or more of her family.

Only this time it would be so much more devastating.

For once, she had allowed herself to dream.

To wholeheartedly believe that she'd finally have what she had never been allowed to before. 

Warrick had understood where she had come from, even if he hadn't known the whole truth. He didn't critize her need to work so hard. He didn't judge her or her motivations. He didn't question her need to give Christina more than she herself had had growing up.

Even more than that, he had loved her unconditionally and wholly. Loved her just as she was. He had never asked her to change or tried to make her into the image of someone else. Although there had been women in his life before her he had never judged her because of the imprint they had left on him. In fact, sometimes, she had secretly been grateful that there had been no blue-eyed porcelain princess in his life for her to be held up against. . .

[Save me] Call my name and save me from the dark

"Meg?" Nick called for the second time as he knelt down in front of her and tried to pry her hands from the edge of the chair. As her glazed eyes connected with his and started to focus, the doctor standing behind him spoke softly: "shock."

Looking back at the younger man, Nick nodded in agreement before turning back to his friend, his hands rubbing hers to try to warm them as he spoke to her in an even tone. "Meg, this is Warrick's doctor.

Shaking her head to clear it, Natalie repeated his words questioningly: "Warrick's doctor?"

"Yeah," Nick replied as he let go of her hands and the doctor moved to take the vacant seat next to her.

"Mrs. Brown, I'm doctor Holden. I'll be the primary on your husband's case," he informed her evenly as she turned to look at him and froze slightly in shock. . .

[Wake me up] Bid my blood to run_  
[I can't wake up] Before I come undone_

Staring into familiar brown eyes and a familiar yet older features, Natalie couldn't help but wonder if she had in fact finally gone crazy. 

She was looking into the face of a dead man, after all. But then again, she was supposed to be dead as well, and she wasn't. So it was possible that the man in front of her could be. . .Inhaling, she looked at her hands and shook her head as she tried to come to gripes with what she was seeing and what her mind was telling her was reality.

"Mrs. Brown, are you ok?" the doctor inquired as he reached over and took her pulse.

"Just. . . just having trouble. . .um. . . processing everything that's happening," she admitted shakily as she pulled her wrist away from him.

"That's understandable. I'm Doctor Steven Holden, your husband's doctor," he reiterated.

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Natalie fought back a laugh as she repeated after him, "Dr. Steve Holden?"

"Yes," he responded, noticing how Nick was watching her with growing concern. "Would you like a drink of water or something?"

"I don't think you'd be serving what I need right now," she answered as she shook her head and wrapped her arms across her chest. "How's Warrick? When can I see him?"

Steve Holden stared at her a moment as he tried to figure out the words to let her know just how bad her husband's condition was. Watching him, Natalie let out an exasperated sigh, "just tell me. Contrary to how it might look, I'm not going to fall apart," she said simply as she straightened in her seat, trying to infuse strength into her posture.

With a raised eyebrow, Steve Holden looked over her shoulder to Nick, who shrugged. The movement was the only indication the doctor needed. "All right then. The truth is, Mrs. Brown, that your husband's condition is critical. He had multiple injuries. . ."

"Are you trying to tell me that Warrick was shot more than once?"

"Yes."

"Oh, G-d," Natalie muttered brokenly as she buried her head in her hands. Stepping forward, Nick place a hand on her shoulder and nodded towards the doctor to continue as she raised her head and used her hand to brush back the red hair that had fallen over her face.

"Mr. Brown has a couple of flesh wounds. However, there are two injuries that, combined with blood loss, present more serious concerns. We're asking for your permission to operate."  
  
"What are they?"

"The first is an injury to his shoulder. A bullet is still lodged in it and there has been some damanage to the muscles. However, there's a good chance that will Physical Therapy he will regain partial if not complete use of it," Dr. Holden informed her evenly.

"That. . . that sounds. . . better than I thought," she breathed. "What about the other injury."

"A bullet grazed your husband's head. Due to that there has been some swelling. If the pressure is not relieved there are a number of life threatening complications it could lead to including. . ."

"I'm well aware of the types of complications that can arise from such an injury," Natalie snapped, her mind already forming a list of worse case scenarios as images of various victims laid out on Doc Robbins's table and Ben flashed through her mind.

"She's CSI too," Nick said in explanation of her reaction.

"Can I see him?" Natalie asked, a touch of desperation in her voice.

"We need to get him into the OR as soon as possible, but I can let you have a few minutes with him before hand. I just need you to fill out some of the paperwork beforehand."

"I can do that for her, so that she can have more time with Warrick. If that's ok?" Nick suggested.

"I just need her to sign the form for surgery and then she can go in, it's ok with her that you fill out the other paperwork."

"I'm sitting right here, you know that right?" Natalie asked as she pushed to her feet. "Nick can fill out the papers and I'll sign whatever you want me to. I just want to see my husband."

"All right, I'll get the papers and then show you to his room," Steve said as he rose and started for the nurse's station.

"Thanks for volunteering to file out the paperwork, Nick."

"No problem, Mig," he replied with a sight smile.

"Can you also. . ?"

"I'll call in."

"Thanks," she answered with a slight smile as Holden came towards them with two clipboards. Taking the one he handed her, she quickly signed it and handed it back to him as he gave the other clip board to Nick.

"I'll show you to the room. Just to prepare you. . ."

"Dr. Holden, I look at dead bodies for a living. I think I can deal with a living one," she answered tensely avoiding his eyes as she looked at the closed door they came to. "I want to go in alone," she told him softly as he started to push the door open.

"I'm not sure. . ."

"Well, I am. I want to be alone with my husband," Natalie said stiffly as she pushed past him. . .

[Save me] Save me from the nothing I've become

Stepping into the room, Natalie froze as the door closed behind her.

She had thought she was prepared for this, and she had been wrong.

Nothing that had ever happened to her had prepared her for this moment.

Forcing herself to breathe, she crossed the room and stopped at the foot of the hospital bed. Fighting back tears, she took in Warrick's appearance. His skin was ashen and there were marks on his face and forehead. His arms were covered with gauze in various places and bruises were forming in others. More glaring was the pressure bandage on his shoulder.

Inhaling, she moved around the bed to a chair that was situated next to it and sunk into it, her hand reaching shakily for his.

Now that I know what I'm without_  
You can't just leave me  
Breathe into me and {make me real}  
Bring me  
To life_

"I'm sorry, Warrick. I don't know how this happened. . . I never thought. . . Oh G-d, Warrick, how could this have happened? This was never supposed to happen. . . That's why I left them. . . Why I left that life behind. . . I tried to tell you. . . but you always told me my life before Las Vegas didn't matter. . ." swiping at her eyes with her other hand she continued. "I once thought that losing Christian was the worse thing that had ever happened to me. That could ever happen. . . G-d I was so naive then. . .But this. . . this is so much worse. . .I don't know what I'd do without you. . . without Tina. . . You two are my life. . . you taught me what it really means to be loved and to love. . . gave me my only. . . my only. . ." her voice broke on a sob as she dropped her head onto the edge of the bed, "you can't leave me alone Warrick. You can't can't... you have to fight to come back to us. . .you have to. . ."

[wake me up] Wake me up inside_  
[I can't wake up] Wake me up inside_

A touch on her shoulder startled her, raising her head she looked back to see Nick standing behind her. "Mig, they want to get him ready for surgery. We need to go."

Nodding slightly, Natalie wiped at her tears as she shakily got to her feet. "I can't do this. . ."

"Mig. . ."

"It's ok," she said sadly, "just give me one more moment, all right?"

"Sure, I'll be outside," Nick replied as she moved towards the door, hands in his pockets, torn because he wanted to say something to his best friend, but knew his wife needed the chance instead.

"I love you, Warrick. I've never loved everyone like this before. I never will again. Don't leave me alone again. Without love again," she whispered as she leant over him and kissed his forehead.

[Save me] Call my name and save me from the dark

"Meg?" Nick asked as she stepped out of the room. Sobbing was the only response she could give. Acting on instinct, he reached out and pulled her towards her and held her close as she cried into his shoulder. "It's ok."

"No, Nicky, and it may never be again."

"Warrick's tough. He's not going to give up easily. He's a fighter."

"Not all fights are winnable," Natalie said as she pulled away and wiped at her falling tears. "I think I need to find a seat in the waiting room."

At her words, Nick tensed. "You can't."

"What do you mean I can't?"

"When I called in, Grissom asked me to bring you to the lab. They need to ask you some questions," he told her uncomfortably, still unsure why they would want to question her at Headquarters instead of here where she could be close to Warrick.

"OK, if that's what they need," she agreed distracted by the medical staff entering Warrick's room.

"We'll take good care of him," Steve Holden reassured as he brushed past her. Natalie's only response was a nod as she allowed Nick to guide her down the hall.

[Wake me up] Bid my blood to run_  
[I can't wake up] Before I come undone_

Back in the lab Grissom moved through the halls moving in and out of various cubicles checking on Warrick's case and others that were pending as Jim Brass came up to him and tapped his shoulder. "I have that file you were interested in," he said once he was sure that the other man would catch all of his words. "Mind if I ask what you want with it?"

"Would you believe that I'm playing on a hypothesis?"

"In other words, you're playing out a hunch. When did they lace up ice skates in hell?" Brass asked as they came to Grissom's office and entered it.

"Hypothesis, there's a difference. I have evidence backing this up, although not a lot," Grissom answered as he took his seat and turned on the desk lamp to add more light to the room. Once facing Brass again, he asked: "did you take a look at it?"

"Yeah. Summary is this. Guy's wife was kidnapped and he decided to be a hero. He traded himself for her. Kidnapper lost an FBI tail, drove into Lake Meade. Our vic died, dayshift caught the case. Elckie signed off on it along with some forensics people from the FBI. Our newly acquired friend from the FBI was the lead investigator, however his signature's missing."  
  
"Whose signature's missing from what?" Catherine asked as she breezed in.

"Door was closed for a reason, Catherine," Grissom said stiffly as he looked over the file. "You could've knocked."

"You sure I didn't?"

"Well, I didn't hear a knock either," Jim put in as he looked over his shoulder at her.

"I'll flash the lights next time," Catherine snarked as she sat on the edge of Grissom's desk and turned to make sure that he could have a view of her lips in case his hearing dimmed out.

"Do that," Gris sighed as he flipped through the file. "There's no picture of the body. Before or after."

Glancing at the file Catherine raised an eyebrow, "could probably get one on-line if it's the same Christian Vega that I'm thinking of," she told him.

"This case was before your time with Dayshift."

"Doesn't mean I don't like the guy's art, Grissom."

"What?"

"For a man as literate as you are, I'm surprised you didn't recognize the name. Pricey artist. A lot of the hotels on the strip have started to use prints of his work in their rooms, although the major pieces--- portraits of his family members haven't been made into prints yet. They go for a pretty penny at auction."

"How do you know all this?" Brass asked.

"Dayshift caught a burglary that included the theft of one of his portraits. Insurance wanted to make sure it was the real thing. That was one of the ways it was proven," she shrugged. "So you want me to look it up?"

Catching sight of Special Agent John McBaine's approach, Grissom slid the file under others on his desk, "no. And don't mention this to out guest."

"What are you up to?" Cat asked.

"You'll find out soon enough," Grissom answered stiffly as McBaine knocked on the door. "Come on in," he called as he rose to his feet. "Jim and Catherine will show you to the interrogation room. I've got a couple of things I need to check on before I get there," he informed the younger man as he grabbed a couple of things off his desk and headed for the door.

Watching him go, John frowned slightly: "why are we doing this in the interrogation room and not at the hospital?"

"Don't want any one to say that we didn't cover all bases," Jim shrugged. 

"Besides, this is more private," Catherine added as she gestured for them to precede her out the door. . .

[Save me] Save me from the nothing I've become

Walking down the hall of the labs, Natalie started to grow uncomfortable.

This wasn't right. They should be questioning her at the hospital not here. Not unless they thought that she. . . but no, they couldn't think that.

Footsteps bouncing off the walls, she continued the trek next to Nick till they came to Grissom. Looking uncomfortable, Nick left and started towards one of the trace labs as Grissom looked at her questioningly. "We'll get this out of the way as quickly as possible," he told her tensely.

"OK. Have you. . . have you found anything?"

"You know how it works," he told her softly as he started down the hall.

She stood there for a moment before hurrying to catch up to him and placing her hand on his arm. As he looked down at her, she couldn't keep the fear out of her face or voice: "Am I a suspect Gris?" 

"You tell me," he replied as they came to the interrogation room and he opened the door letting her precede him into it. He watched as she looked around the room as if she had never been in it before, her gaze avoiding Catherine and Jim, only to lock for a moment with McBaines. "Let's get this started," Grissom said simply as he let the door close behind them. . .

{Bring me to life}

As the main part of the interview started wrapping down, Grissom looked over to Catherine, "Cat, can you see what Gregg's come up with DNA wise?"

"Wait a minute, we're not. . ." she started to protest.

"Still have superiority," Grissom said stiffly.

"Whatever," Catherine sighed as she rose and stormed out.

From his place in the corner, John McBaine cringed slightly. He had a feeling that something out of the ordinary was about to happen. Something that neither he or Natalie were ready for. 

As if on cue, Jim Bass turned off the tape recorder that was documenting the questioning. Catching his movement, Natalie looked at the two men confused. "Are we done?"

"Not quite, Natalie," Grissom said evenly, noting the shock cross her face.

Quickly masking her reaction as McBaine moved towards them, Natalie shakily formed a response. "Why. . . why would you call me that?"

"Because your friend here did at your house," Grissom answered.

"You never heard me call her that," John protested.

"It's amazing the things I don't hear."

Nervously pushing her hair back Natalie shook her head, "no. . . you. . . misunderstood. It was getting dark. . ."

"Compare the two names," Grissom challenged as he pushed a mirror towards her, "then tell me otherwise. . ."

[I've been living a lie..There's nothing inside]

"This can't be happening," Natalie muttered.

"What can't be happening?" Jim challenged.

John put a hand on her arm, "you don't have to do this."

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. I all ready told you, McBaine. I'm going to do anything to get the person who did this. You're not going to stop me."

"Not like you let me before," he muttered.

{Bring me to life}

"All right. I wasn't always. . . My name used to be Natalie."

"Why did it change?" Jim asked.

"You don't need to know that," McBaine protested.

"We'll be the judge of that," Jim told him as he looked at Natalie. "It's ok, hun. Just tell us. We'll understand."

"I was married before. My husband managed to get in debt to the wrong people. We were only married a few days and he was killed. I didn't know about the debts, but. . .well, some of the people he owed to. . .they blamed me for some loses. . . they came after me. . ." Natalie tried to explain.

"It's not connected to this," McBaine cut in. 

"Because you know who's involved?" Grissom asked. "You know I found your reaction to the sketch odd," he commented as he pulled out the sketch. "Maybe you can clear this up."

"Nat, don't. . ." McBaine started as Natalie looked at him questioningly before taking it.

"Why shouldn't I? If I can help," she started as she looked down and gasped, the paper falling out of her grasp and fluttering to the table as she covered her mouth with her hands. 

Frozen inside without your touch _  
Without your love, darling  
Only you are the life among the dead_

"Shit, shit, shit," McBaine muttered as Natalie dropped her hands and stared at him.

"You sorry son of a Bitch!" she yelled at him as she pushed back from the table and went towards him. "You knew. . . you knew and yet you let me think. . . How. . .how is this possible?" she asked as she looked frantically around the room, as if somehow she would get the answers that way.

"I swear, Natalie, until I saw that sketch, I thought he was as dead as you did," he protested.

"Right. I just bet," she shot back while backing him into a corner. Seeing where things were going, Grissom and Jim rose and moved to interceded. "You couldn't just let me think he died. You had to make me die too. Better for my family. Safer. Yeah, because my family's oh so safe now. . .If I was back there. . . G-d. . .I wouldn't have to worry, not like I do now. . .I wouldn't be in an interrogation room. Uncle Bo wouldn't have. . ." she shook as she fought back tears. At the hand on her arm she rounded to look into Grissom's blue eyes, "you thought. . . you really think I would. . ."

"No, but I had to be sure," he said simply.

"Right because it's only the evidence with you," she said angrily as she wiped at her eyes and spun back to John. "Tell me something, what are you going to do? Huh? When he wants money that I don't have in exchange for my daughter, what am I going to give him? I don't have access to a trust fund now. I haven't picked up a cue stick in years. . . My friends think I might have. . . and my husband. . .Oh, G-d, I can't even call him that can I?" she asked as she started to fall to the ground.

"I'll pull every string I can, Natalie," McBaine said softly.

"Will you? That's reassuring," she answered as she looked up at him and the door opened.

[All of this I, I cant believe I couldnt see _  
Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me]_

Stepping into the room, Catherine looked at them all in confusion as Gregg came up behind her. "I've got something," he said stiffly from the doorway.

"What?" Natalie asked as she pushed to her feet.

"It's not good."

"Some of the blood was hers too, wasn't it?" at Gregg's nod Natalie's legs started to waver, but Grissom and Jim caught her before she could collapse.

"If it's any consolation, it's from the smaller samples. She hasn't lost a lot," Gregg tried to reassure.

"At least not then."

"Come on, we're taking a break from this," Catherine said as she moved towards the younger woman.

"Yeah, because I can take a break from my life. Oh, wait, it isn't really my life is it?" she asked looking towards John. "Tell whose is it at the moment?"

"Don't go there."

"Why not? Tell me why not. Tell me who the hell I am right now. Can you? I mean, MJ Brown's an illusion that you made. Your Pygmalion. You must be so proud. Still using me for bait. That's the real reason you came to Las Vegas. Not some anonymous tip. You never could tell the truth."

"I'm telling it now. I didn't know. I wouldn't use you for bait. I had wanted to I could've during the Music Box Killings."

"And the fact that you didn't is probably my fault too. I mean, if you had used me what? Gabrielle would be alive? Flash would have her career? You would have gotten him sooner right? If I wasn't involved. I mean, I was a distraction right? The merry widow you were indebted to, only I wasn't a widower after all."

Looking over at the other men, Gregg raised an eyebrow as Catherine voiced the question they both had: "you two following this?"

"Unfortunately," Jim muttered.

I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems _  
Got to open my eyes to everything  
_  
[Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul]_  
{Don't let me die here}{You Must Accept The Fall}  
Bring me to life_

Grissom moved over to Natalie and put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't," he said softly. "This isn't helping."

"Nothing's going to," she said angrily as she pulled away from him, and turned to him. "How did you. . .?"

"I would've pushed off the name thing, except for something Nick said," Grissom admitted as he started to move her to a chair and signaled the others to leave them alone.

"Come on, McBaine, I've got some questions for you," Brass said.

"And I've got some calls to make to get them for you."

"You weren't on it from the time you saw the sketch?"

"I'm waiting for returns."

"Nick? I don't understand," Natalie started as she sat down in the chair, unaware of the fact that the room was emptying

"He didn't trust McBaine because of something that a friend of his said."

"I still don't. . ." 

"He said that McBaine got the guy's sister and brother-in-law killed. Their names were Natalie and Christian, and since I saw him call you something else, I went with the evidence and made a hypothesis."

Natalie laughed hollowly, "you should play hunches more often, Gris. You're good at them. Ironic isn't it?"

"Not really. Catherine had felt you were hiding something, but I never thought. . ."

"Who would? Who could? I really didn't have anything to do with what happened. Not that way."

"I know that."

"He was coming after me. He had to have been. I shouldn't have switched cars. Shouldn't have let Rick talk me into going to the doctor's. He was just being overprotective and then this happens. . ." she shook her head.

"We still haven't gotten a ransom demand. . ." Grissom started as the door opened and Jim walked in, a piece of paper in his hand.

"Spoken a bit too soon," Jim interrupted, causing Natalie to look up as he held out a clear plastic bag containing a piece of paper.

Swallowing, Natalie took it from him: "We might be able to get some money from evidence. . ." he suggested as she read over the note. "But I'm not comfortable about the hand off."

"It's not your choice," she said sadly. "Even with money from evidence. . . even if I called Marco and asked him. . ." she shook her head.

"What about your family?" Grissom asked.

"Aside from the fact that they think she's dead?" Jim wondered.

"I can't. . . my family life was. . .I can't even explain. . ." she sighed. "But. . ."

"But what?"

"I can't not. . .I just. . . I can't face all of them. I'm not sure I can face any of them. . . But I need to don't I, if I'm going to be able to save Tina?"

The two men traded guarded looks, "Gris, you said Nick knew my family, right?"

"You'd know better than I would."

"No. No I wouldn't. I didn't know them till I was in college. If they knew Nick, I never met him."

"Then yeah. I did."

"Can you? Can you ask him if he'd try to call Joe for me, not tell him why? Just convince him to come here?"

"Joe?"

"Yeah. I assumed. . ."  
  
"He said the guy's name was Kevin."

"No. . . No, I can't face Kevin. . . he's too judgmental. Joey. . . Joey I can deal with."

"Then I'll ask him, but are you sure you don't want to do it yourself?"

"How would you feel if you got a call from you dead sister?"

"Point taken. I'll ask him," Grissom said as he rose.

"Ask who what?" Catherine asked from the door.

"It doesn't matter."

"I'm on this case too, you know. You don't share you're off. It's dayshift's especially if I think you're covering for someone," she shot back testily.

"I'll explain later."

"You better," she sighed as she looked at Natalie, "why don't you come with me and get cleaned up a bit. I'll drive you back to the hospital."

"You don't have to. . ." Natalie started.

"I'm supposed to clock out for a meal. I'd prefer not to eat alone and I know you well enough to know that the only way you're going to eat through this thing is if one of us forces you too. Besides, I'd like to check on Warrick too." Catherine answered.

Shaking her head, Natalie conceded the older woman's point. . .

[wake me up] Wake me up inside_  
[I can't wake up] Wake me up inside  
[Save me] Call my name and save me from the dark  
[Wake me up] Bid my blood to run  
[I can't wake up] Before I come undone  
[Save me] Save me from the nothing I've become_

"Not what you were expecting, was it?" Jim asked after the two women left the room.

"Not even close. I better go find Nick, get the ball rolling on this and find out what the hell McBaine knows and doesn't. I'm not losing any of them if I can help it," Grissom answered shaking his head as he exited the room. 

"You think she's still alive?"

"I don't have evidence telling me otherwise."

Bring me to life_  
[I've been living a lie.. Theres nothing inside]  
Bring me to life_

On the other side of town, Christian continued painting himself into another man's life and family to the sound of a little girl crying herself to sleep. . .

song credit: Bring Me To Life

Author's notes: before anyone asks, no the doctor isn't Al. Going back to when I first started watching OLTL Max had a brother Steve who died. He was engaged at the time and she later had their son, hence Dr. Steve Holden.  



	3. Chapter 3: Everybody's Fool

Fallen:  
Chapter 3: Everybody's Fool

A short while later, Grissom found Nick in the hall.  "Hey, Grissom, I was just looking for you," the younger man said as he approached his boss.  "We've gotten back some of the preliminary tests from ballistics."

"What do they say?" Grissom asked as they changed directions and started towards his office.

"Some have been ruled out as having come from Rick's gun.  The others are of the same caliber, but the markings are different," Nick elaborated as they entered Grissom's office.  "So either our shooter managed to change guns. . ."

"Or we have two shooters," Grissom remarked.

"Which could explain how they got Christina."  
  


"Tell me how you see it," Grissom suggested as he took a seat behind his desk and indicated that Nick should take the one opposite him.

"They were waiting.  From what our witnesses said, I'd say they were probably positioned across the street.  They opened fire when Warrick exited his car.  He heard the shots and got his gun.  He returned fire, probably after trying to get to Christina and noticing one of them coming up on him."

That's more than likely when he went down."

"And what questions does that scenario raise?"

"Where were they parked?" Nick answered.  "That's going to be hard to prove if they were moving. . ."

"Assuming they were parked right there," Grissom countered.  "Check with Brass about those witness statements."

"Because they could've parked elsewhere and gone back," Nick conceded.  "We should probably send someone back to check to see if there's a blood trail leaving.  If Rick got a shot off, he more than likely hit his mark.  Which could add to the DNA evidence, but there are so many samples that Greg's going to be backed up in the lab for quite some time."

"It's a working theory in any case," Grissom answered as he shifted in his seat.

"Mig still here?" Nick asked as he started to rise, planning to go and let Greg in on the theory.

"No.  Cath's driving her back to the hospital."  
  


"I would've done it."

"She needed to clock out."

"Glad I'm not in that car.  Tempers are sure going to be rising."

"You don't know the half of it," Grissom sighed, knowing that Catherine would be pushing for answers that she hadn't gotten in interrogation.  "Nick, I need you to do something for me," Grissom added, switching subjects easily.

"If I can," the younger man replied as he sat back down.

"That friend you mentioned earlier when you told me about McBaine.  Does he have a brother named Joe?"

"Yeah.  Why?"

"I need you to call him and convince him to come here."  
  


"You want me to call Joe and get him to come here? Why?"

"I can't explain right now."

"But it has to do with the case?" Nick deduced.

"Yes."

"Grissom, I've known Joey and Kevin for years.  There's no way that they'd knowingly be involved in this," he protested.

"They're involved, just not in the way that you're thinking."

"Great, another Grissom puzzle!  How am I supposed to get him here without any information?"

"Tell him. . . tell him that the wife of a victim whose case we're investigating asked for him and that he'll understand when he gets here.  When he sees her."  
  


"And when will I?"

"That's up to. . ." he paused, realizing that he wasn't sure what she'd want to be called now that they were aware of her other life.

"To who?"

"To Meg," Grissom replied.  "If and when she wants you to know, I'm sure she'll tell you."

"Fair enough," Nick answered, confused.  "I'll go and call him."

_Perfect by nature  
Icons of self indulgence_

Catherine pulled out of the parking lot of the Las Vegas Crime Lab and into traffic, spearing the passenger next to her a glance as she did.  "How are you holding up?" she asked as she looked back at the traffic in front of her, glad that it wasn't very heavy.

"How do you think?" Natalie asked, then added testily: "oh, wait.  About all you think of me is that I have something to hide."

"Grissom told you," the older woman sighed as she tightened her hold on the steering wheel.

"Yeah, although I'm not surprised.  Tell me, is it because of this or because I'm with Warrick."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just that.  I mean, it wasn't exactly a secret that you weren't in favor of our relationship."  
  


"I never said anything that could lead you to believe that."

"No you were extremely careful _not _to _say_ anything.  In fact, it was what you didn't say.  The looks you gave.  The way your behavior towards me--- towards Warrick--- changed that gave you away."

"There were things going on at the time that had nothing to do with you two.  I mean, why would I object as long as you make him happy?"

"Which you didn't think I could do.  You were waiting for me to hurt him.  Guess your wait is over."

"You're twisting my words."

"Am I?" Natalie asked shifting in her seat.  "You're telling me that you _didn't _suspect that I had something to do with what happened? That you don't blame me?"

"The person who's to blame is the person who shot Warrick," Catherine deflected as she stopped at a red light.

"You didn't answer my other question, and that answer isn't exactly convincing."

"What do you want me to say, Meg? The exchange between you and McBaine looked suspicious.  Warrick had been driving _your_ car.  Tell me how else I was supposed to look at it!" Catherine demanded as a horn blared behind them.

"You should have known better."  
  


"You were hiding something.  You still are," Cat countered.

_Just what we all need  
More lies about a world that_

"So you do blame me."  
  


"Why was he driving your car?"

Natalie sighed at that, "because his was acting up and he was picking Tina up at school."

"Which you usually do."

"I had a doctor's appointment! Rick made me go to it," Natalie answered defensively as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared out of the window.

"Convenient."

"Not at the moment," Natalie sighed as she nervously scratched at the back of her neck.  "I was having trouble keeping meals down the last few weeks.  He was. . . Warrick was worried and pushed me to see a doctor.  I went to Dr. Thornhart's today," she paused.  "Believe me, I wish. . ." she shook her head.

"Thornhart, huh?" Catherine asked, recognizing the name as belonging to a local and well respected OB/GYN.  "What did he have to say?"

"He wanted to run some tests."

"Including. . ?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Mig.  I know you two had wanted. . ."

"He'd be so happy.  I mean, I hadn't even let myself believe. . ." she inhaled sharply as she hugged herself and rocked slightly in the seat.  "G-d it should've been me.  Why wasn't it me?"

"Asking that particular why isn't going to change anything," Catherine commented as she turned a corner, then added.  "You know that I couldn't bring myself to commit to the idea that you did this?" she asked as she looked over at the younger woman.

"That's reassuring," Natalie muttered sarcastically.

"I can't help it if I think you're hiding something! That you always have been! If you want to know the truth, yeah, I've always known that what ever it was that you were hiding would end up hurting Warrick.  I just never thought that it would almost get him killed!"

"No, it should've gotten me killed.  I should've never listened to McBaine," she muttered.

"About what?"

"Trying to trick me into telling you my deep dark secret, Cat? Why the hell don't you just ask me what it is!"

"All right, then, what are you hiding?" Catherine asked as she pulled into a spot in the hospital's parking lot and glared at her passenger's profile.

"It's that until Warrick I had shitty taste in men.  Of course that time I didn't see it.  I thought the only thing wrong with him was that he still had a thing for my sister.  Boy was I wrong.  I married him.  I married him and didn't even know that he had a gambling problem, or at least not how bad it was.  I mean, I suspected.  But he promised me.  Promised me that he'd stop.  That he wouldn't bet on me again.  We were here, in Vegas, for a competition he pushed me into.  It was our honeymoon.  The fact that I didn't throw the game made some people angry.  I thought he was killed because of me.  Because he traded himself for me.  They were angry that I didn't pay off his debts, so they came after me.  I didn't even know he had them. . . John talked me into going into the Witness Protection Program after a friend of mine was almost killed driving my car!

That, Catherine, is my deep dark secret.  My secret is that I wasn't always Meghan Davis.  That I used to be someone else! And you're right because it did hurt Warrick.  It should've been me.  He should've come after me, but then again he has to know how painful this is for me.  He had to have known how this would be the embodiment of all my worse fears.  That it would bring up memories of Ben.  That taking Christina would bring up all the issues of my childhood and so called family life.  If anyone could've known it was him!"

"You recognized our suspect," Catherine said, grabbing onto the only piece of the tirade that she could process at the moment.

"How's this for irony for you? My dead husband apparently tried to kill my current one," Natalie asked as she stormed out of the car and towards the hospital, leaving Catherine to stare after her in shock.

_Never was and never will be_

Detective Jim Brass walked into the lab's break room in time to see FBI agent, John McBaine close his cell phone and threw it across the room.  "Guess you aren't getting us those answers, now are you?" he asked as he crossed the room to get a cup of coffee.

"Yeah," McBaine sighed as he clumped into a nearby chair.  "How is she holding up?"

"Willows is taking her back to the hospital.  That's about all I know.  By the way, thanks for the heads up that was in the program.  I can't tell you how much fun Gil and I had putting her in tears like that.  I mean we just live for moments like that," he answered sarcastically.

McBaine shook his head at that as he rubbed his forehead to try to stay the forthcoming headache.  "I wasn't sure it was relevant."

"Our main suspect happens to look like her dead husband, but it wasn't relevant?"

"I didn't want to say anything till I knew for sure.  I. . . I knew what it would do to her if it were him."

Brass's eyes narrowed at that as he took in the younger man.  "You really didn't know, did you?"

"I would have warned her if I did.  As it was, the warning I gave her wasn't enough."  
  


"What warning?"

McBaine sighed as he dropped his hand: "that the gambling I was investigating when I first met her might have been back in existence."

"You have proof of that?"

"Other than this? Just an anonymous tip."

"You told her about it?"

"Wanted her to know why I was in town."

"You seem to care about her more than you should," Brass remarked.

"She was a friend, and I owed her," McBaine shrugged.  "I thought I had screwed up somehow and gotten Chris killed. I should've protected her--- them--- better.  And I didn't.  I let a man get killed on my watch and let her get hurt too."

"You two. . ?"

McBaine shook his head at the implication: "at most a flirtation.  Timing was never there or she just wanted. . . I don't know. . . to prove something.  That she was her own person, I guess.  Hell, I don't know if she ever even thought of me in that way."

"You going to be able to stay objective?"

"Are you?"

"Fine.  You've got a point.  Just know that if you fuck this up, you will be sorry."  
  


"I already am."

_Have you no shame? Don't you see me?  
You know you've got everybody fooled_

The Land View home of Asa Buchanan was filled with people.  Waiters in white jackets on loan from The Palace Hotel moved from influential person to influential person as deals and donations were made.  Smiling forcefully, the brunette moved towards the foyer.  This was in no way her forte.  She had never been much of a people person, preferring to spend time in her lab and with her experiments.

Reaching the staircase, she let out a sigh of relief as she grasped the banister and started up the stairs, only to gasp and freeze at what she saw as she rounded the curve in the staircase.  Cursing under her breathe, she spun around and hurried back down the stairs and into the party.  Shifting through the crowd, she managed to avoid contact with any of the other quests till she made it out onto the terrace.  Shivering slightly, she sunk onto a chaise and aloud a few tears to fall.

She supposed she shouldn't have been all too surprised.  With one exception, all the guys she had been interested in had wither been oblivious to her interest or had cheated on her.  Hell, this wasn't even the first time that he had.

She had dumped him for it the last time, and she should've kept to her decision.  Only he was so damned charismatic and repentant.  She supposed she should've realized it had more to do with her being a better piece of arm candy for him as he ran for office than Blair Crammer.

And why shouldn't he use her as a replacement when in some respects she was doing the same to him.  Because no matter how she tried to move on, they were never _him.  _Even moving across the country hadn't exorcised the man from her mind. . .

_Look here she comes now  
Bow down and stare in wonder  
Oh how we love you  
No flaws when you're pretending  
But now I know she _

Rev. Joseph Buchanan carefully extracted himself from on his church's biggest contributors and headed out to the terrace.  Seeing his brother's fiancé on the chaise trying to hide her tears he silently seethed.  He could never understand how Kevin could continue to destroy the women who loved him.

Shaking his head, he walked towards her and extracted a handkerchief from his pocket.  "What did he do now?" he asked as he held it out to her.

"Take a guess," she sighed as she looked up and accepted the piece of cloth and wiped at her tears haphazardly.

"Do I need to ask with whom?" he wondered as he sat down next to her.

"What do you think?"

Cursing slightly, Joe shook his head: "What are you going to do about it?"

"Same as last time, only I'm not going to let him pull be back into an unhealthy relationship again," she told him confidently.

"You sure?"

"Yeah.  The tears are. . ." she started as his cell phone rang.

"I uh. . ."  
  
She laughed slightly at him: "usually it's mine.  Go ahead and take it."

"We're not done with this," Joe told him as he took out his phone and answered it professionally.  "Rev. Buchanan."

"Never am going to get used to you being a man of a cloth there, Joey," the voice on the other end of the line said.

"Fine.  Who is this?"

"Nick Stokes."

"Nick. . . Hell man, it's been years! What are you doing calling me? Everything ok with your family?" he asked once he placed who was calling him.

"Depends on which family you're asking about."

"I didn't realize you had more than one."

"I don't. . . at least not exactly.  Look, Joe, the reason I call has to do with a case I'm working on.  One of my co-workers has been shot.  He's in critical condition and his little girl was kidnapped."

"That's horrible, but I don't see what that has to do with me."

"To tell the truth, I'm not exactly sure myself.  My supervisor asked me to call you.  Mig--- another co-worker and my friend's wife--- apparently knows and asked for you."

"Do you know why?"

"No.  Grissom didn't say.  He just asked me to convince you to come."

"I've got a lot of stuff coming up here, Nick."

"Come on, man.  I've known and worked with Mig for about five years.  She's not taking this well at all.  If you being here is going to help I'll get on a plane and come out there and hog tie you if I have to.  And believe me, I know the way to get a way with it too."

Shaking his head, Joe chuckled: "Same old Nick.  Ok, ok, I'll come to. . . where are you anyway?"

"Vegas."

"Fine.  I'll come to Vegas."  
  


"Tonight?"

"Nick, I've got stuff to do."

"And a private plane at your disposal, rich boy."

"All right, I'll make arrangements and call you back."

"Actually, I'll call you. I'm going to be buried under a ton of evidence and would prefer to keep my line open for case related stuff only."

"Fine.  Talk to you later," Joe finished as he disconnected the call and frowned at the phone.

"Everything ok?" the brunette asked.

Joe shrugged as he turned to face her, "weird call," he admitted then, looking at her came up with a plan.  "You used to work in Vegas, right?"

"Yeah, before I took the job here.  Why?"

"How'd you like to act as my tour guide for a few days? I mean, you did take the next few days off to go with Kevin on campaign rounds, right?"

"Gambling isn't going to help me much."

"That's not what I meant."

"Then what do you mean?"

"The guy who called me just now is a really old friend.  A co-worker of his was shot and his daughter was kidnapped.  The co-worker's wife asked for me for some reason, so I'm going out there."

Shaking her head, the brunette laughed slightly, "you want my 'guiding' abilities or my contacts, because I have to tell you I don't know if many of them are still good."

"I figured I'd give you time to think things out."

"I don't need time to 'think things out,'" she told him, annoyance clear in her voice.

"Fine then, time to cool off before you face off with Kevin."

"You do know that I can be extremely cool and collected."

"With dead bodies, not my brother."

"What can I say, he brings out the worse in me, but not for much longer."

"So you'll come with me?"

"You're relentless, you know that?" she asked with a slight laugh.  "Fine, I'll go with you and act as your 'tour guide.'" She conceded with a roll of her eyes.

"I'll go to the rectory and get a few things done and then pick you up at your place in about two hours."

"I'll meet you at the airfield in two hours," she countered as she rose.  "I can handle your brother if the need arises.  Thanks anyway," she added as she rose and started out.

_Never was and never will be  
You don't know how you've betrayed me  
And somehow you've got everybody fooled_

Natalie paced the waiting room, passing strangers that were sitting there lost in their own worries.  As she passed a table she eyed the salad that Catherine had left for her with distaste.  It wasn't so much the older woman's choice in foods as it was the fact that she knew that her stomach would rebel against anything she'd attempt to put in it.

Cursing under her breathe, she pivoted and retraced her steps trying to come to terms with what was happening in her life.

The Christian she had known wouldn't be capable of something like this. . .

"This so isn't helping," she muttered to herself.

"And talking to yourself is?" a voice asked causing her to turn and look at its owner.  The man in question was a short, balding, Italian who looked like he could've been on Wiseguy in his youth. "Brought you something to eat.  Figured you wouldn't be up to eating what this place passes off for food."

"Not up to eating much period," she replied with a shrug as she shoved her hands into her pant pockets.

"Well, it will keep," he shrugged.  "How about you? How are you doing?"

"I'm doing better than Warrick."

Shaking his head, he shrugged out of his leather jacket, "how can I help?"

"I was going to call. . ." she shook her head.  "We don't have enough money in evidence. . ."  
  


"Perks of owning a casino include having a lot of money on hand."

"I can't guarantee. . ."

"I'm willing to take the chance," he cut off.

"Why?"

"What? You don't want me to?"

"No, I. . .I just don't understand.  Marco, you're always. . . why me? Why the interest and help for me?"

He shrugged at that, "I told you when you cocktailed for me; you remind me of someone I used to know."

"You loved her didn't you?"

"I cared about her," he deflected.

"What happened to her?"

"She married someone else.  A year or so later, she was dead."

"How?"

"What's that? Professional curiosity?"

"Just curiosity in general."  
  


"She died of complications from an autoimmune disease," he told her softly.  "It was a real shame.  She was a star on the rise."

"It's always a shame.  Always what ifs by those left behind."

"Or those just waiting?"

"Yeah," she admitted before turning her head and staring at the wall.

"I. . . I'll leave you then.  Eat when you're ready.  Call me with the details of how much and when" He told her as he rose, pausing to put a hand on her shoulder, "and don't give up hope."

"I don't know if I have any left."

"Then you can borrow some of that too.  Chin up, Kid.  You're a survivor," he added as he shrugged into his jacket.

"I'm not the one who's in danger of not surviving."

"There are different types of survival, kid.  You know that.  Same as I do."

"Maybe I'm just tired of it.  What's surviving worth if there's nothing to survive for?"

"That's something you need to answer for yourself," he told her sadly before walking out.  He was tempted to look back, but he wasn't a man who ever looked back.  Instead, he continued down the hall, onto the elevator, down another hall and out of the building.  As he crossed the parking lot he unclipped his cell phone from his belt and dialed.  "Yeah, tell 'em it's Marco Dane calling about the Brown case. . ."  
  
_Without the mask where will you hide?  
Can't find yourself, lost in your lie_

She bit her lip as she looked at the half-full suitcase mentally questioning how she had allowed Joey to talk her into going to Vegas with him.  It was a place and time she had wanted to leave being and she had thought that she had been fairly successful at doing just that for the last eight years or so.  Shaking her head slightly, she turned and caught sight of the plant in the window.  "Yeah, you've really left Vegas behind.  No matter how many times you tell yourself otherwise, the evidence saids that plant is more than a reminder of when to let go or you would've let _it_ go."

Scratching the side of her nose, she returned to her bureau to continue packing, aware that she was making more than she would need, and for some reason not caring.  After all, maybe it was karmic justice.  She had left Las Vegas for Land View.  Why not repeat the process in reverse?

Laughing at her odd train of thought, she tossed the last few things into the case and headed to the bathroom to change and grab her toiletries.

When she exited 15 minutes later, dressed considerably more comfortably in a pair of jeans and LVCSI t-shirt, she found Kevin emptying her suitcase.  "You have some sort of problem?" she asked as she glared at him.

Looking at her, he frowned: "No, but apparently you do.  These things aren't appropriate."

"They are for where I'm going," she shot back as she tossed her toiletries into the bag.

"That's why you need to talk to my people instead of brushing them off," he sighed as he walked towards the bureau and dropped her clothes onto the top of it. 

"I'm not talking to your people."

"Honey. . ."  
  


"I'm not your 'honey,' Kevin," she told him crossly as she brushed past and grabbed back her clothes.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You disappear from an important fundraiser and now you want to wear jeans and T-shirts on campaign stops," he demanded as she crossed the room and started to repack.

"There's nothing wrong with me.  In fact, I'm finally setting things right with myself.  See, I'm not going with you. I am no longer going to be a trophy to help you get elected," she answered calmly as she closed the suitcase, zippered it, and turned to face him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, our engagement is over.  Talk to your people about that," she said stiffly as she pulled off her engagement ring and tossed it at him.

"Just like that? You're throwing some sort of tantrum and I'm supposed to what? Bed you not to go? Promise funding for some per project of yours?"

"First of all, I'm not throwing some sort of tantrum, nor am I like the other women you've been with.  Second, its things like this that are making me walk out.  You have no idea who I am or what I want, Kevin, and apparently, I don't know that much about you either or I wouldn't have been taken in by you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Just I finally processed all the evidence.  I'll even lay it out for you.  I'm the type of woman you should be with.  Smart.  Independent. Well-respected in my field.  I'm married enough because, well your political career couldn't take another divorce and I make you look more settled than bachelorhood would.

Only you don't want me, at least not alone.  

You want my image.

The person you want is too tarnished.

So you sneak around with her instead."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Of course you don't," she said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes. "After all, staircases at you grandfather's during fundraisers are oh so private," she added as she pulled her suitcase off of the bed and started towards the door, pushing past him in the process.

"Sara, you don't understand."

"No, Kevin, _you _don't.  Have your stuff out of here when I get back."

"Sara, I need you," he protested as he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Looking pointedly from his hand to his face and back again, she waited till he dropped his hand.  Then, looking him right in the eye, she answered:  "my image and myself are two different things.  You want my image, not me."

"Sara, I love you."  
  


"I guess the sad thing is you believe that," she sighed.  "Eve if you did, it comes down to the fact that I don't love you.  Not that way."

"Don't do this.  Not while you're mad."

"That's the thing," she shrugged.  "I'm not mad.  I'd say what I am is resigned."

"I'd call it cold.  Frigid even," Kevin struck out angrily.

"So my frigidity is why you went after Blair.  Glad to know," Sara answered as she backed up.

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Whatever, Kevin.  And just so you know, I mean it when I say it's over.  You want Blair and her heat, then fine.  You don't that's fine also.  But you and me, that's over."

"That's what you said last time too."

"And believe me, I regret not listening to myself then.  Seems I've always had a problem walking way.

Well, you know what Kevin.  This is me walking away once and for all."

I know the truth now

John McBaine walked into the surgical waiting room and frown slightly at the back of his former charge and friend.  Shaking his head, he crossed the empty room to where she stood staring out of the window.  "You need to eat," he said gruffly as he came up behind her.

"Why does everyone think that eating's an answer?" she asked, refusing to look at him.  "Because all it's going to do is make a return appearance."

"I think that falls under the category of TMI," he groused, lapsing them into silence for a couple of minutes.  "Will you at least sit down before you drop?" he finally asked.

"Like you'd care?"

"You know that I do."

"I used to think you did.  Now, well, now I'm not so sure, she admitted as she leaned her forehead against the glass of the window in front of her.  "I'm tired, John.  I'm so damned tired."

"Then come sit."

"I don't mean. . ." she sighed.  "When's it going to end? Where?"

"When's what going to end?"

"The fighting? When do I get to stop fighting? When do I get to just be?"

"Is the alternative worth giving up right now?" he wondered, worry evident in his tone.

She sighed at the as she shifted her head enough to look at him, "I guess I sound. . " she shook her head as she straightened up.  "I'm not giving up on them.  They're everything to me.  I just. . . I'm not like Vickie, you know that.

In some ways, I took pride in that.  I face my problems.  I work my ass off to get to where I need to be.  I never got handouts and now. . .I can't help but wonder how she did it.  How she went one when Ben. . .

I don't know what would be worse now for him to die or to be caught in suspended animation.

And Tina. . . what if he disappears with her? I promised myself she'd have it better than I did.  That I'd never let some do to her. . . I failed.  He took her because of me.

He hurt Warrick because of me and I can't do anything to fix it.

Time's running out and there are no leads.  

If I can't convince Joe to help, I won't have the money to pay the ransom, if I can even convince the department to let me make the drop.  Because we all know how many things can go wrong either way.  Hell, I don't even know if she's. . ." she shook her head and wiped at the tears flowing down her cheeks unable to finish that thought even as she continued into another.  "I just. . . I can't be stoic.  I can't pretend that this isn't tearing me apart! I want to break something the same way that this is breaking me! I'm so damned tired of keeping it together and being strong!"

"Then don't be," a voice said from behind her, as McBaine could only stare at her in shock.  "Let us be strong for you," it added as Jim Brass came towards her, "Come on.  You wouldn't be the first victim to fall apart on me," he added gently.

Choking back a sob, she nodded as she let him awkwardly pull her into an embrace as she sobbed onto his shoulder. . .

_I know who you are  
And I don't love you anymore_

"She's not Meg Davis?" Catherine demanded from the doorway, causing Grissom to look up from the papers he was reading.

"So much for flashing lights," he grumbled before looking down at the assignment list he was trying to complete.

"Gil," she started with more than a touch of aggravation in her voice as she moved further into the room.

"What do you want, Catherine?"

"Enough information to do my job," she snarked as she moved closer to his desk.  "How long have you known?"

"I found out in interrogation," he admitted distractedly.

"Thanks for sharing.  You do realize that if you hide anything else I'm pulling you all from the case."  
  
Grissom looked up and glared at her in response to her threat.  "One, it wasn't my place to say anything.  She's in the Witness Protection Program and I haven't found out the whole reasoning for her placement in it from McBaine."  
  


"Something to do with her presumed dead husband and gambling."  
  


"So when were you going to share that?"

"I just did, and that doesn't let you off the hook.  You've opened us up to all sorts of scrutiny."

"You want to go there with me? Because I can list many a time you've done that in the past.  There's the conflicts of interest, the unauthorized DNA tests, the checks, the questionable assigning of staff to undermine their positions or stroke your own ego."  
  


"That was a long time ago Gil, don't throw it up to me now!"

"Then don't go on a power trip with me! I didn't get  to tell you because you took her back to the hospital before I could."

"I've been back for a while and you didn't come looking."

"You really think that I have the time to go looking for you? I'm down two CSIs.  I have that crime scene to process not to mention countless others.  My senior investigators are assigned to Rick's case.  The labs are backlogged.  All the over time for the month has been used, and the only other over time I'm going to be able to wrangle will be for Rick's case because if the Sheriff doesn't ok it and it gets out, which you know it will sooner or later, it will become a public relations nightmare.  I have the press breathing down my neck.  The DA's office in an uproar over rescheduling court appearances and changing witness lists so that people can cover Rick and Meg's testimony, and you now you threatening to make things personal, because we both now why you're really threatening to remove nightshift from the case," he said pointedly, "Not to mention that I can't pick up some of the slack myself because I can't spend extended periods of time at scenes since I don't know when my hearing my blink out and endanger myself or someone else.

Oh, and contrary to popular belief I am not a robot.  

I do have some feelings about the fact that one of my best friends is currently lying on an operating table, his daughter is missing, and wife if falling apart.  And it really is not thrilling me that I can only act as their supervisor at the moment--- even to the point of pulling her in here to question her because G-d knows the evidence was certainly pointing there for a few minutes.  

But, hey, you're right.  I should just pushed all that aside because you're so much busier than I am and I really should have sort _you _out to tell you that she once went by a different name and blames herself for what happened!"

"Fine.  I get your point.  I apologize," Catherine started as she put up her hands to hold off more.  "I guess I just misjudged things."

"You've misjudged a lot of things over the years, Cath," he sighed as he rose.  "I have to give out assignments for the night and then check on how things are progressing in the labs."

"I'll check the labs.  You go get something to eat.  Check in as their friend, not as their supervisor," she suggested, hoping he'd accept the offer as the peace offer she meant it as.  "Besides, you're getting too old to be working trips," she added, trying to inject a bit of the camaraderie they had shared years ago into the conversation.

Grissom shook his head, gracing her with a sad smile: "I was too old eight years ago," he sighed, reminding her of a case that had changed the entire time and their relationships before walking pass her and out of the room to hand out the evening's assignments. 

After all, no matter what was going on in their lives, crime was a constant.  Aside from 'the Brown' case, they also had a homicide at a local no-tell motel, a possible suicide, a probable sexual assault, and a breaking and entering to solve. . .

_It never was and never will be  
You don't know how you've betrayed me and  
Somehow you've got everybody fooled  
  
It never was and never will be  
You're not real and you can't save me and  
Somehow now you're everybody's fool_

****


	4. Chapter 4: My Immortal

_Fallen: Chapter 4 My Immortal_

_I'm so tired of being here__  
__Suppressed by all my childish fears_

Grissom stood in the waiting room's doorway and looked in uncomfortably noting the other occupants of the room as he did. A couple of off-duty detectives and lab techs along with a few of the kids from the youth center that Warrick and MJ ran took up chairs. However, it was the sight of Meg that surprised him.

For as long as he had known her, Meghan Jessica Davis-Brown had never seemed to be anything but strong. There had been times when cases had gotten to her. When she had been hurt or felt the pain of someone she cared about being hurt, or worse, but she had never appeared so broken to him. He supposed, on some level, he was surprised that she could be.

Catching Jim's eye, he nodded as he continued into the room and moved towards where they sat, or rather where Jim sat with Meg curled up on the chair next to him, his blazer over her and her head in his lap. "She doesn't look too comfortable," Gil remarked as he stopped next to them.

"She cried herself to sleep, Gil," the older man answered softly as he tried to shift his position slightly without waking her. "I've never seen her cry before."

"I wonder if even Warrick has," Gris mused.

Jim only nodded as he stroked back the hair that fell over her forehead. "Dane called me."

"I'm assuming he's agreed to help out with the money."

"And he's more than a little annoyed about the situation," Brass sighed, then paused and looked down at Natalie and back to Grissom. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" he asked.

"Would fit," Grissom shrugged. "So the question is: do we trust him?"

"Can we afford not to?" Brass asked as Natalie turned slightly.

"If he did make that call, well, there are worse people to trust," he answered as Natalie started to sit up tiredly.

"Than who? Me?" she asked tiredly, but Grissom and Brass's answers were cut off by Dr. Holden's entrance.

"Mrs. Brown," he started as he crossed to her.

"How is he?" she asked as she pushed up, causing Brass's coat to fall to the floor as she swung her legs in front of her and rose.

Picking up the coat from the floor, Grissom watched them as Brass rose, both men trying to get a read on the situation. In the meantime, the other occupants in the room also rose, with some of them coming towards them. Unsettled, Steve Holden looked at Natalie. "We could do this in private if you prefer," he told her, indicating the people around them.

"No. They need to know too," she answered stiffly as she wrung her hands.

"Fine. If that's what you want," he replied as he signaled that she should sit.

At his expression, she sunk into the chair, "it's bad isn't it?" she asked softly as Brass sat back down next to her and shared a concerned look with Grissom.

"The damage to his shoulder wasn't quite as extensive as we though it would be. However. . ."

"However what? Is he. . ." she started, but was unable to continue the thought.

"No," he reassured quickly as he reached out a hand, a motion that was mirrored by the older man sitting next to her. "We've relieved most of the intracranial pressure. However, your husband has slipped into a coma. Until he wakes up we can't be sure if there is any permanent damage."

"Until he wakes up?" Natalie asked on a hollow laugh. "You can't guarantee that he will."

"No, but. . ."  
  
"I don't want false hope, Doctor Holden."

"All right. Your husband's condition is critical. He may wake up tomorrow or. . ."

"Never," she interrupted. "Or he may wake up for a short time and slip back into a comatose state."

"That's a possibility."

Nodding, she rose as she fought back tears. "Thank you for being honest," she started tiredly as she wrapped her arms across her chest, wishing for her husband's instead. "Is he back in his room?"

"I believe so."

"I'd like to see him now," she added as she started to go past him.

"All right, but I can't guarantee that he'll know."

At that, she paused and looked over her shoulder at the doctor who looked so much like her dead friend, but who didn't have his manner at all. _Al would've known better than to make a comment like that,_ she couldn't help but think, as she stared at him and answered with the only words she could: "maybe not, but I will."

Turning away, she once more started towards the door, only to stumble slightly. Righting herself, she forced herself to continue, only to find that her steps were now being matched. Looking to her right she saw her boss and she bit back a sharp comment at the expression on his face. Stumbling once more, she was righted by his hand on her arm.

Quietly, they continued down the hallway to Warrick's room. At the door Grissom dropped his hand and stepped back. Turning slightly, Natalie looked at him directly for the first time since telling him the truth about who she had been and gave a watery smile, "thanks," was all she could say to him because she wasn't sure how to express what she was thankful for.

But of course, Grissom being Grissom, he had to ask: "for what?"

"For being the first one to not tell me it will be OK," she admitted as she looked away and to the door of the room where her husband was hanging onto life.

"MJ. . ."

"Don't, Gil," she chided quietly as she shook her head, refusing to look at him.

It was then that understanding dawned on him. She was thanking him because he was the first one to allow her her feelings of dread. Even though she couldn't see him do it, he nodded. "Take your time. When you're almost ready to leave, call me at the lab and I'll come get you."

"You don't have to. Besides, I don't want to leave," she argued as she turned her head enough to look at him.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he shrugged. "You're going to have to," he told her, then reminding himself that he was talking to her as a family friend and not her boss he softened his tone. "Your brother will be here soon."

"Joey's coming?" she asked, surprised. A touch of hope finally shining in her eyes.

"Nick convinced him to."

"Did he tell him why?"

Catching her drift, he shook his head: "I haven't explained your situation to Nick."

Hope dimming out of her eyes once again, she shrugged: "its better this way. He wouldn't have come if he knew the truth," she said with a disappointed ease that surprised him.

Unable to verbalize anything further, he watched her turn and enter the hospital room, wondering if he should've countered her feelings on that part, yet knowing that he didn't have a good enough understanding of her family's dynamics to give a good counter argument. . .

_I would give every breath from my chest_

A few hours later, Natalie washed her face in the locker room sink, trying to destroy the evidence of the tears that she couldn't stop from falling. Straightening, she stared at the reflection in the mirror taking in the red puffy eyes set in a pale face as she tried to find some semblance of the woman she had thought she was, but failing to. Shakily, she wiped her face with the rough institutional paper towel before inhaling. Crumbling the used towel with one hand, she reached with the other for the make-up bag she had taken from her locker earlier. With little thought she started to apply her make-up, wondering if it was even worth the effort.

From the doorway, Catherine watched her jerky movements with concern. Slowly moving towards the younger woman, she vowed to help her deal with what was happening to her. _She's not Sara. She doesn't deserve for you to take out old frustrations on her,_ an inner voice reminded as she came to a stop a few feet away from MJ. "I bought you a change of clothes," she told Natalie softly as the younger woman put down the make-up sponge she was using.

"I don't need them," Natalie said stiffly as she put the cap on her bottle of foundation and reached for her eye make up.

"You can't," Catherine started as she moved closer to her, only to stop as Natalie turned towards her and she realized that the younger woman had already changed and that what she had changed into was one of her husband's extra shirts.

"Taking on the job of fashion police too?" Nat snarked.

"I'm sorry . . . I didn't realized that you had already changed."

"It's the closest I'm going to get to him holding me for a while."

"Grissom said that the doctors are optimistic."

"That doesn't mean they're being realistic. We both know the reality here. What more than likely will be," Natalie replied sadly as she turned back to the mirror and the task of trying to hide the fact that she had been crying.

"Our jobs tend to make us pessimistic. That doesn't mean we can't hold out hope," Catherine countered as she moved to stand behind Natalie so that she could watch her in the mirror.

"It's not the job that's made me like this, Catherine. Life has," Natalie answered as she put down the make up brush and met the older woman's eyes in the mirror. "No one who's accepted me. . . loved me. . . has ever stayed around. That's _my _reality. Optimistic was believing that it would be different with Warrick and Tina," she finished as she broke eye contact and picked up eye liner.

"But your brother's coming."

"And he doesn't know why or for who," she explained as she once more connected eyes with the other woman's reflection. "A part of me doesn't believe that he would have come if he knew. Again, not pessimistic, just realistic," she shrugged as she fought back a new round of tears and finished applying her make up. . .

_To give you all the things__  
__That my mind couldn't bear_

Reverend Joseph Buchanan knocked on the door that separated his room from that of his brother's now former fiancé. With a slight frown the brunette opened the door as she toweled dry her hair and turned back towards her bed. "You going to be ready soon?" he asked her.

"Your friend called, huh?" she asked as she flipped her hair.

"Yeah. His boss picked his co-worker up at the hospital a little while ago. They wanted to give her some time to shower and change before I got there."

"You mean we don't you?" she challenged as she brushed her hair quickly, letting it fall against her shoulders, uncaring of the curls that would come to it.

"Unless you want me to take a cab," he shrugged as she put her brush into her makeup case.

"Where are we going?" she asked impatiently.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he felt around before extracting a piece of paper.

Checking it, he recited the information, glancing up to notice his companion's stiffening. "You recognize the address?"

"Yeah. It's the building that houses the Las Vegas Crime Lab," the shaking her head, she shrugged. "Of course other offices are also there."

"Well, I guess it makes sense. He's bound to be involved in law enforcement somehow," Joe shrugged as he walked towards the door.

"Why's that?" she asked as she grabbed her purse and followed him.

"His family is."

"Oh," she sighed as she pulled the door closed behind her, trying to ignore the feeling that she was going to be pulled back into her past.

_And if you have to leave__  
__I wish that you would just leave_

Sara made the drive to the Crime Lab on automatic pilot, trying to convince herself that it was just a coincidence, even though the evidence pointed elsewhere. Which lead her to wondering who could possibly have called for Joe. _It's probably not even someone I know. Staff has probably changed drastically over the years that I have been gone,_ she tried to convince herself as she parked and in a visitor's spot and they exited the car and walked towards the building.

_Because your presence still lingers here_

Once inside, they moved towards the reception area, Sara glanced around and noted how few things had changed. "Can I help you?" the woman at the reception desk asked as Joey finished signing in and Sara moved to do the same.

"Yeah, we're here to see. . ." Joe started, only to be interrupted. "Hey, Buchanan, glad to see you made it!" Turning, Joe smiled at the man approaching him, taking in the tired, worried expression on his face.

"I had help finding the place," he shrugged as he shook the man's hand. "So what's the story, Nick?" he asked as a younger man came towards them.

"Nick! Brass's looking for you. So's that FBI guy," he added as he hurried by his back to the desk.

"McBaine's just going to have to take a number," Nick sighed as Gregg knocked into Sara.

"Sorry," he said distractedly.

"S'ok, Gregg," she shrugged causing the younger man to do a double take.

"Sidle? Well, this is unexpected. But I'm glad to see you. We can sure use an extra set of hands."

"Why? What's going on?" she asked as Gregg's pager went off.

"Can't talk. DNA analysis is in on a case," he added as he hustled off.

"Great, guess I'll just ask Nick," she shrugged, only to turn and see that both he and Joe were gone. "Well, that's typical," she sighed as she put on a visitor's pass and headed towards the labs.

_And it won't leave me alone__  
_

"McBaine?" Joe asked as he fell into step next to Nick. "Please tell me you didn't call me here because of John McBaine."  
  
"Not directly, but he's investigating the case."

"Then why am I here?"

"To tell the truth, I'm not exactly sure. Grissom didn't elaborate," he shrugged as they stopped at the man's closed door. "But that's not unusual for him," he added as he knocked on the door. When no answer came, Nick slid the door open slightly and reached in to flick the light. "He has a hearing problem." 

"Oh," Joe answered as Gris called out for them to enter.

Rising from the chair, the older man took off his reading glasses and looked at them with slight preplexion. "Reverend," he acknowledged as he extended a hand towards Joe.

"You seem a bit surprise," Joe signed and spoke as he shook the man's hand.

"A bit unaware," Grissom contradicted as he stepped back.

"So I guess one of my parishioners didn't ask for me?"

"Not exactly," he answered as he turned his attention to his subordinate. "Brass and McBaine are looking for you."  
  
"So I heard. Do I really have to work with that guy?" he asked, his hands stumbling over the signs, even as his voiced words were harsh.

"Yes, you do."

"Gris. . ."

"One, we're not doing anything to endanger this case. Two, Mig trusts him."

"And a lot of others don't," Nick muttered.

"Since I know her, I'll take her version of things," Grissom answered as he pointed to the door.

Shaking his head, Nick turned towards it and started out, muttering as he did. "Nick, don't mutter. It's annoying."  
  
Joey looked at the older man in confusion. "I thought. . ." he started, then let his voice trail off.

"I have a hereditary disorder that, at its present stage of progression, causes my hearing to fade in and out," he commented matter of factly as he rounded his desk and headed towards the door. "You sign very well, by the way."

"My cousin Sara's larynx was damaged due to an attempt on her life. She can't talk as a result, so the family has learned to sign," Joe explained as he followed him out of the room. "So, can you tell me why you asked me to come here?"

"What did Nick tell you?"

"That a colleague was hurt and his wife requested my presence. And there was something about a kid too."  
  
"Warrick Brown, one of my senior CSIs, was apparently ambushed as he arrived home with his daughter, Christina. He's in critical condition. Christina was taken and there has been a ransom demand made," Grissom informed as they came to a stop outside an interrogation room.

"OK, then why am I here?"

"Because of 'Mig.'" Grissom answered using his hands as quotes at the use of the name.

"Excuse me?"

"'Mig' is our nickname for Warrick's wife. As for why you're here it's because she wanted you to come."

"Then why did Nick call me and not her?"

"Because she's not. . ." he paused and titled his head slightly as he posed a question. "How would you feel getting a call from a dead person?"

"I don't understand."

"It's part of the case that Nick doesn't know yet. 'Mig' used to be someone else. She. . . well, I suppose it would just be better if you saw for yourself."

"Why?. . " Joe started as Grissom reached over and opened the door, blocking his view momentarily.

"Mig, he's here," he called softly as he stepped back and motioned for Joey to step in.

_These wounds won't seem to heal_

At the build of the woman who stood with her back to him, Joe frowned. Only it wasn't the build alone that caught his attention. What pulled at him was the hair. Even with the older man's words, he couldn't allow his mind to accept what his heart was beginning to acknowledge.

"I'll be in my office," Grissom said softly as he stepped out and closed the door.

At the click, 'Mig' turned. "Hey, Joe," she pushed past the lump in her throat.

"Long time. . . " she started, unable to hold back her tears. "No. . . see. . ." she finished as her older brother crossed the room and pulled her into his arms for a tight hug. . .

_  
__This pain is just too real_

Sara walked down the hall with more confidence than when she had worked at the lab. Of course that was probably due in part to the fact that she was no longer a subordinate at one. Instead, she was now head of a crime lab and was responsible for taking it from one of the worse in the country to a mid level ranking.

Hands in her pockets, she took in all of her surroundings, not surprised to feel hemmed in by the memories of her time here. In her mind's eye she wasn't surprised to see the specters of the past watching her.

Rounding a corner, she caught sight of Grissom near a door that she remembered being one of the interrogation rooms. Stopping short, she watched him turn, their eyes locking.

She supposed she shouldn't have been hurt by the bemused expression that crossed his face or the fact that he broke eye contact and turned away.

But she was.

_There's just too much that time cannot erase_

Stepping out of one of the trace labs, Catherine Willows was surprised to see a figure she couldn't quite place in the hall. As the figure's shoulders slumped and head went down, she took a step towards it. It was then that she realized who it was.

Grissom's retreating form gave it away. 

"Well, if it isn't Sara Sidle. To what do we owe this distinction?" she asked watching as the figure tensed and turned. "Although, I supposed you heard," she added, her voice softening slightly. "We could do with an extra set of hands even if they're yours. You are still able to work as a criminalist, aren't you?" she couldn't help but add haughtily.

"Actually, I direct a lab," Sara retorted defensively. "Which I'm sure disappoints you since you tried so hard to get me fired."

"You needed help."

"No. Actually, I didn't."

"You showed up at a scene drunk."

"Only because someone else was too busy getting laid to show up. If that person were to remember that night was supposed to by my night off. Besides, I had only had two beers, which didn't make me drunk."

"Sara, you endangered an investigation."

"Funny how no one ever said that about you. I mean, with me it was, what one? Maybe two, that I used questionable judgment on. The first I documented. And the drinking before shift I admitted to under oath. But you never admitted your mistakes. Tell me, how many conflicts of interest crossed your path? How many checks?"

Catherine shifted uncomfortably at that, "I never understood why you didn't throw those things in my face at the time. "Just because you were acting like a jealous bitch at the time didn't mean that I had to."

"I wasn't. . ." Catherine started, then sighed. "I don't know. Maybe I was."  
  
"You're actually admitting it?" Sara asked surprised.

"Considering you're the second person to accuse me of those types of behaviors today, maybe I need to reevaluate things. I just know I didn't want to see Gil hurt."

"He wasn't the one who was. He wasn't the one who almost lost their career. He wasn't the one whose chance for advancement was sabotaged," Sara reminded hotly, then shrugged. "I don't know why I'm bringing this up. It was years ago."

Catherine flipped her hair and sighed: "Closure. We never discussed it. One day you were just gone."

"Yeah," she responded as she looked away and stuck her hands in her pocket.

"What are you doing here by the way?"

"Drove a friend."

"Really? Why?"

"I'm not sure. His presence was just requested," Sara shrugged. "Why? What did you think I was doing here? What should I have heard about?" she asked as one of the lab techs blew out of the ballistics labs.

"Willows, got a hit for you on the ballistics from the Brown case. Belongs to a guy by the name of Todd Manning."

"Brown case? Manning? What's going on?" Sara asked. "Is Warrick in trouble?"

"Warrick's in the hospital. He was ambushed outside his house and his daughter was kidnapped."

"Daughter? I knew he had gotten married, but. . ."

"Rick and Mig adopted her," Catherine answered as she looked over the report in her hand.

"When did all this happen?"

"About 12 hours ago, why?"

"Because if the Todd Manning that that tech was talking about is the one I'm thinking of he has an alibi."

Raising an eyebrow, Catherine looked at the information in her hand: "guy's from a town in PA."

"Landview," Sara provided. "And he spent a good portion of last night covering his nephew's fund raiser for the SUN."

"The Sun?"

"A newspaper he owns."

"And you know this how?"

"I attended the same fundraiser with only slightly more enthusiasm than Todd. I can make a couple of calls, see if he reported a gun stolen. Of course, it would help if I knew what type of guns I was looking for. Why the ballistics were already on file."

"Thanks, but I'll call the lab there myself."

"Fine. Do what you want. I just figured it would be easier for you to get through the red tape that Colson will throw at you having the head of Landview's crime lab doing the talking."

"Well, we really have gone up in the world," Catherine said sharply. "Unfortunately, I haven't. There's too much at stake on this case for me to just allow you to step in."

"You said you needed an extra set of hands."

"Yeah, night shift's down two CSIs. I just want to handle this right. You need to be officially. . ."

"Fine," Sara interrupted. "I'll go talk to Grissom," she added as she stalked down the hall.

"Sara, there's something. . . ." Catherine started to call. "You should know," she added as her voice level dropped. "Damnit, This is not going to be good."

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears__  
__When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears__  
__And I've held your hand through all of these years__  
__But you still have, all of me_

How long Joe stood there holding his sobbing sister tightly to him, he didn't know. It seemed as if everything had stopped. This couldn't be real, and yet it was. 

As her tears started to subside, he pulled back and stared at her. "How is this even possible?" he questioned as he pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. "Where have you been? Why did you let us think that you were dead?"

"Because I thought it was better this way."

"How could it be?"

"Because Star and Marcie were almost killed because of me. Their car accident wasn't one and I couldn't let any one else be hurt because of me."

"So you faked your death?"

"The FBI did that. I didn't know it would be the route they'd take."

"McBaine put you up to this?"

"John was doing his job."

"Amazing how he always seems to get people hurt. I'm surprised at you though, you could've found some way to get in touch with us. To let us know that you were alive."

"And get one of you killed?" Natalie asked. "Yeah, that would've been helpful."

"Then why call now?" Joey asked, and then as the older man's description of why he was here sunk in as he made connections. "The ransom. You need money. That's why you called. Asa was right. It was just about the money with you," he accused.

Shaking, Natalie stared at him: "that's what you. . . you know what? I should've known this wouldn't. . . The door's behind you. Why don't you use it?" she threw back as she turned her back to him and crossed to the wall.

Breathing hard due to his agitation, Joey stared at her back. "What did you expect me to thing? To do? Damnit, Natalie! You let us believe that you were dead. It nearly killed. . . Then you suddenly decide to have someone call and get me to come here without telling me why and then the story I'm told. . ."

"I didn't suddenly decide anything, Joey!" she interrupted as she spun around. "I suddenly had my past show up at my house. My car, which my husband was driving because his was acting up this morning, was shot up. I lost count of the spent bullet casings that I saw on my lawn. My husband was hit multiple times and is in critical condition. My daughter is missing. One blood sample from the scene has been identified as belonging to her. I don't know if she's dead or alive. I received a ransom demand that there's no way in hell I can pay on my own.

That's what this is about! _They're_ what this is about!

Believe me, I wouldn't have called if there was any other way.

Then, again, I can see that I shouldn't have!"

"I didn't mean. . ."

"Yeah, you did. Because everyone thinks that way about me. I guess that was the good thing about being someone else. I wasn't judged by Roxy or you anymore. No more pity or impossible standards."

"Why me? Why not Mom or Dad? Uncle Bo?"

"Because I thought you'd be the one to understand. To see. . . I guess I was wrong."

"Understand what? You haven't really explained anything."  
  
"Forget it. Just forget it all," she sighed as she went to push past him.

"Don't," Joe protested as he reached out and grabbed her arm. At her look he let her go. "Help me understand."

"I don't know how to," she told him honestly. "I don't understand it myself."  
  
Swallowing, Joe reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder: "let me help you."

"I'm not one of your parishioners, Joey."

"No. You're my sister," he said softly as he moved them towards the chair and tables that were behind them. "So, tell me what's going on. How you got to this point. About your husband. Your daughter."

"There's not a lot to tell," she shrugged as she sat down and watched him round the table to take a chair. "Christian had racked up some gambling debts."

"Chris gambled? That doesn't seem like him."

"No. I'm just making it up."

"I didn't mean it that way. I'm just surprised."

"I know. I just. . ." she stopped and shook her head.

"You're under a lot of stress."

"That's one way of putting it. Any way, he got in debt to the wrong people and they weren't happy that I didn't throw that match so they came after me."

"And McBaine made you join the Witness Protection Program and fake your death."

"He didn't make me do anything. He gave me an option. I didn't know that they'd fake my death."  
  
"Would you have still done it if you had?"

"Honestly? I don't know."

"I see."

"No. I don't think you do. You have no idea how guilty I felt when Star and Marci were in that so called accident. Then when I realized that it was done purposefully."

"But Uncle Bo had said that the investigators hadn't found anything."

"Well, I guess Landview's crime lab was one of the worse in the country for a reason, wasn't it? Joe, I found the problems with the break lines myself."  
  
"Maybe McBaine. . ."  
  
"Joe, I got threats, OK? I'm not stupid. It wasn't John. Someone wanted me dead. I wouldn't take a chance with anyone else's life."  
  
"But Christian? Are you sure it wasn't because of Roxy? That would make more sense."

Natalie bristled at that: "Yeah. I'm sure it was because of Christian. Any doubts were erased today."

"How?"

"A witness identified one of the shooters, or at least they were able to give a description to a sketch artist. Take a guess at who the picture came out looking like."

"No. Come on Nat. He's dead."

"Yeah, and so am I. What's your point?"

"I just. . . Considering what McBaine has done in the past, I just can't bring myself to trust him. And I don't understand how you can."

"I don't. At least not completely. But, I do know I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him."

"We would have done whatever we could've. You could've gone to London or. . ."

"Or what? And then where would I be, Joe? And I don't mean physically here. If it weren't for John, I wouldn't have gone very far."

"Of course you would have!"

"Really? I wish I had your confidence. Because I don't think I would have. Do you remember who I was back then? Not who I let you see. Not who I pretended to be. But who I was. I mean, I dropped out of school to support Chris. Because we couldn't afford for both of us to go and g-d forbid that I used my money. That I touch the trust fund to do it. He didn't want to take money from the family, and I wanted to prove that I didn't care about the money. Hell, I didn't think that I was worth it."

"Natalie, you know that isn't true."

"I know that now. I know now that my relationship with Chris was bordering on being emotionally abusive. But then," she shrugged. "I was always in Jessica's shadow. Asa thought I was just after the money. I barely knew Kevin. I had met Clint what. . . three times, and most of those had more to do with Jess than me, and Cord, I've never met."

"Asa was coming around. Kevin cared. So did Clint."

"Maybe, but it wasn't just that. Do you know that I lost my scholastic scholarship not because of my grades, but because I was a Buchanan? They thought that it should go to someone whose family couldn't pay for their education."

"I didn't know that. I didn't even know that you had had one. You never told us."

"IT wouldn't have changed anything. John, well, he actually pushed me to be more than a waitress or beautician or nail technician. I didn't know what to do and he pointed out that I was the one to figure out the problem with my breaks. That I solved a chemical link in the Music Box case. He suggested that I look into forensics. Turns out that I'm good at it."

"You're good at a lot of things," Joey told her. "But what about the other things. Your husband? Daughter?"

"Warrick's a criminalist too. He and I met on the job. We didn't get along at first. But I guess some other people saw what we didn't."

"What do you mean?"

"He asked me out the first time because he was dared to."

"He told you that?"

"Considering that I thought it was odd that he was asking me out in the first place and decided to call him on it? Yeah, he told me. Although I still don't know which of five co-workers was the culprit."

"And you still went out with him?"

Natalie shrugged as she pushed her hair back as a slight smile appeared on her face: "I thought it was funny. We figured we'd prove our point that we were suited for each other. We ended up realizing that we had a lot in common, including the fact that we didn't mind fighting obstacles."

"Did you face a lot?"

"Joe, he's a little more than ten years older me, a Senior CSI, and he's African-American. Yeah, I'd say we faced some obstacles."

"And your daughter?"

"No comments on what I just said?" she asked, surprised that he had no reaction to the fact that Warrick was Black.

"Did you expect there to be?" Joe asked, then at her shrug, he added: "do you love him?"

"Of course!"

"Does he love you?"

"Joe. . ."

"Does he Natty?"

"Yes."

"Does he treat you well? Make you happy?"

"Yes to both."

"Then that's all I need to know for now."  
  
"For now?"

Joe shrugged: "I'll get a better read for myself after I meet him. Now, what about your daughter. How old is she?"

"She just turned four."

"Really? I didn't expect her to be that old."

"Rick and I adopted her. Her mother and I cocktailed together when I first moved here and when she got pregnant with Christina we shared an apartment. Then she got sick."

"So she died?"

"She. . . she was terminal and. . . well, she made me promise that I would take care of Christina. I didn't think twice about make that promise. I knew it would be hard, but. . . anyway, we arrange to have the papers drawn up to name me her guardian. The day after they were finalized Warrick and I took Christina to the circus. When we got home. . . well, Manny was dead. A neighbor upstairs and heard her fall and called and. . . It was ruled a suicide. Manny her left a note saying that she couldn't take the pain any more and that she knew Tina would be safe with me. I guess she was wrong."

"I'm sure you're a wonderful mother."

"If I were how could this have happened? You know, Joe, Warrick and I are sooo careful Because of the job we do we are past overprotective. Her fingerprints are on file. We have updated photos. We keep copies of her dental records at home. Her school knows that there are only certain people that are allowed to pick her up. In fact they have directions that they can't even release her to a police officer unless they check with us or the department first, but because I switched cars with Warrick today, she's missing."

"Natalie, you had no way of knowing. You sound like you've done everything possible to keep her safe. You couldn't have stopped this."

"Maybe I could've. If I was there maybe I could've talked him out of taking her. If I was there Warrick wouldn't have been."

"And then what? Could your husband afford that ransom any more than you can? Would he have known who to call? And if they ask Mom and Dad to pay, do you think that they will thinking that you're dead?"

"But it would be _me._ It wouldn't be them. I'm the one it should've been, Joe. I'm the one who's responsible."

"No. Natalie. You're not. I know you won't let yourself believe that, but maybe someday you'll allow yourself to."

"Do me a favor and stop patronizing me."

Joe shook his head, "that's not what I'm doing."

"Then what are you doing? Why are you still here?" she asked as she pushed away from the table and stood. "Why did you let me go on like I did?"

"Because I'm your brother and you needed to talk to someone," he answered as she watched her.

"I don't need any one. I can't afford to."

"That's not true."

"Yeah, it is," she answered forcefully as she wrapped her arms around her. "Chris was presumed dead because of me. Warrick might die because of me. Tina's hurt because of me. Hell, I couldn't even help Rex when we were kids! Everyone I 'need' gets hurt! Don't believe me? Ask Ben, wait a minute! You can't ask him either, can you?"

"You weren't. . ." he started and then exhaled, knowing he wouldn't get through to her if he went down that road. "Is it that you needed them or loved them?"

"It doesn't matter. It ends the same either way."

"It doesn't have to."

"Hasn't it already?"

"Is your husband a fighter?"

"Yes, but. . ."

"No buts," Joe interrupted as he went to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "You haven't lost him yet. And you regained us."

"Joey. . ."

"Listen. I'm going to call Mom and Dad and we'll do whatever we can to help you. . ." he started decisively, squeezing her shoulder before stepping back slightly.

"Joe, you can't," she ordered, panic in her tone. "You can't tell any one that I'm still alive."

_You used to captivate me __  
__By your resonating light__  
__But now I'm bound by the life you left behind__  
__Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams__  
__Your voice it chased away all of the sanity in me_

Sara knocked on the door of Grissom's office and when she didn't get a response slowly pushed it open. Quietly, she scanned the room and saw that not much had changed, not even the man who sat behind the desk appeared to. Inhaling a fortifying breath, she took a step in and started the speech she had rehearsed on her way down the hall: " Catherine told me what's going on. I want to help," she stated simply, knowing that with him it was the best course of action. "Come on, Grissom. I'm still a CSI. Besides, I have contacts that can help," she added as she seemingly ignored her and she went further into the room. "Damnit, Gris! You can't ignore me forever!" she added frustratedly.

"He's not," Willows said from the doorway as she reached over and flicked the lights. "He more than likely didn't hear you," she added as the man in question looked up and towards her. "She wants to help," Catherine informed him in sign as he looked at her.

Cocking his head slightly to the side he looked at her in confusion: "who?"

Rolling her eyes, she pointed to the direction of where the younger woman stood speechless. Following her motion, he looked towards Sara, surprise showing momentarily on his face before he masked it and turned back to Willows. "You ok with that?" he signed.

"It's not up to me," she signed back.

"I don't have time to mediate," he replied in sign.

Stomping her foot, Sara waited for him to turns towards her before she fired a retort at him in flawless sign: "You mediate? We're two professional women and we'll handle whatever it is we need to on our own."

"Like you did in the past?" Grissom wondered.

"And you mediated in the past?" she shot back.

"On that note," Catherine said/signed as she slid out of the room unnoticed by the other two occupants who were glaring at each other.

"I choose not to get in the middle," Grissom shrugged.

"You were the middle!" Sara signed in agitation.

"Sara. . ."  
  
"No. Listen to me, for once, just shut the hell up and listen to what I have to say. I came to Vegas because you asked me to. I stayed because you asked me to, and yeah, because I thought that maybe we'd eventually have the chance we didn't have before. But, after a while I came to terms with the fact that you didn't want me. The only problem was that Catherine decided that I was a threat so she went about sabotaging my career."

"She didn't make you show up drunk that night."

Sara sighed, her signs slowing, "it was my night off. I had had two drinks. I. Wasn't. Drunk. And if you remember, she was the one who called out that night. You were the one who insisted I come in and take her place."

"Lindsey was sick!"

"Yeah, keep on believe that one," Sara muttered, her hands at her sides as she looked away.

"You know something different?" he asked, watching as her gaze shot back to his in surprise. "I have ostiocolosis, but I'm not completely deaf, yet. My hearing fades in and out."

"I see."

"Now, what was that comment about?"

"It doesn't matter now."

"Apparently it does. You've never said things that don't matter."

"Fine. Catherine wasn't home taking care of Lindsey. She was out on a hot date."

"Why didn't you say something at the time?"

"As much as I wanted to save my career, I wasn't going to destroy hers. Besides, how did I know you wouldn't have covered for her like you had in the past?"

"I wish you'd have given me the chance, I might have surprised you."

"I guess we'll never know," she shrugged. "So, what do you say? Can you use my help?"

"Your boss isn't going to mind?"

"I'm on vacation and since you'll need my lab's co-operation any way. . . I don't think that it will be a problem."

"_Your _lab?"

"I'm the head of a crime lab in PA."

"So, you're my counterpart there then."

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Then call and set it up," Grissom said watching her move towards the door. "Oh, Sara?"

"Yeah," she asked as she looked back over her shoulder at him.

"Don't leave without saying goodbye this time, ok?"

"All right," she agreed.

"All right," he nodded as he sat back down and started to look over reports. Shaking her head, she opened the door and stepped into the hallway. Pausing slightly, she couldn't help but ask herself what the hell she was doing. . .

_These wounds won't seem to heal__  
__This pain is just too real__  
__There's just too much that time cannot erase__  
__When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears__  
__When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears__  
__And I've held your hand through all of these years__  
__But you still have, all of me_

Joey stared at his sister in confusion: "Why? Why can't I tell them? They deserve to know. And you need them right now. You shouldn't go through this without your family."

"You don't understand."

"My answer remains the same, Nat, make me."

"Fine. The problem is that I don't have my family," she answered sharply. "And even if that weren't true, they're not my family any more."

"Nat. . ."

"Joe, come on. You know I was never a real part of the Buchanan clan."

"You never gave us a chance to make you one. You always held back. You apparently still are."

"It was self-defense."

"From what?"

"Hello! You've met Roxie, right? That's gotta give you a clue. I mean, in your line of work I'm sure you know that neglect wasn't the only form of abuse I faced growing up. Besides, I was never good enough."

"That's not. . ."

"Don't. . . don't even finish that sentence! Don't diminish what I felt. You have no right to!

Further more, I have people who act as an extension of a family for Rick and I.

As for telling 'Mom' and Clint, I can't deal with them or any of the others right now. I can't deal with their questions and accusations. Not now."

"But. . ."

"Besides, there's another good reason why you can't.

"What's that?"

"I might not be for much longer."

_I'd love to walk away __  
__And pull myself out of the rain__  
__But I cant leave without you_

Joe stared at her in confusion. "Are you sick?"  
  
"No. See, Joe, there's something I've realized that the others. . . well, they haven't yet. I don't know. It was something in the wording. . .I don't know. . . the thing is, Joe. The reason I'm so certain that this is my fault is because I'm part of the ransom. He wants me as well as the money."

Joe inhaled at her words and tried to grasp her words. Like so many other things that morning, it was beyond him. As always she was beyond him. "My G-d, you can't. . ."

"Can't I?"

"Natalie, you have to think about. . . I mean. . ."  
  
"What? What do you mean, Joe? Tell me. And while you're at it, tell me what alternative I have. Any way you look at it, my life's over."

_I'd love to live without __  
__The constant fear and endless doubt__  
__But I can't live without you_

"Don't talk that way!"

"I have to. If I don't do this, Christina dies."  
  
"You said you weren't even sure," he started, then stopped at the realization of what he was saying.

"Exactly. I'm not sure. And if she's. . . well, do you really think that I can live with that? If my being part of the ransom gives her a chance, then I have to take it."

"What about the other people who care about you? Your husband."

"If he survives?" she asked pointedly as she stared up at the ceiling, then back at him. "If he survives, Warrick knows me well enough to know that I couldn't have done this differently. Our friends--- colleagues--- they'll remind me of the stats, but I can't--- no, I won't--- let them change my mind. I think they'll know that.

And, if it's too late for Rick and Christina then my life's over any way."

Joey shook his head and bit back a hollow laugh. "And you claim that you're not a Buchanan? Don't you know how much like one you sound? How much like Mom?"

"Joey. . ."

"I'll agree not to tell them, but once things even out. Once all of this is settled. I want you to promise me that you'll let them know the truth."

"I can't promise that."

"Why not?"

"I just. . . they won't even care," she answered as she looked down at her feet and pulled at the edge of the shirt she wore.

"Of course they will."

"Don't, Joe. . ."

_I can't believe that I'm doing this,_ he thought as he spoke words that were nearly unrecognizable to him: "the promise for the money."

"You can't. . . Damnit! How can you be so underhanded about this!"

"I learned from Asa."

"Fine, but I contact them when I'M ready. You don't blindside me with them. You promise me that and we have a deal."

"I wouldn't. . ."

"Yeah, well, I never would've thought that you'd do this."

"You have a point. Fine. Have it your way. But, one thing," he said as he came up next to her. "Even when you aren't ready for them. You're not pushing me away. I'm here and I'm staying for the long haul. Buchannans stick together, Nat, even if you don't want them to. . ."

"I don't know if I want to. I just. . . I don't know how to be one. . . how to. . ."

"That we'll deal with when this is over."

"Promise?" she asked him.

"Promise," he answered as he hugged her. "It's what big brothers do."

"What is?"

"Dry the tears. Make the monsters go away. Be there," he added as he looked down at her, "You were right to call me. Don't doubt that."

_When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears__  
__When youd scream I'd fight away all of your fears__  
__And I've held your hand through all of these years__  
__But you still have all, of me_


End file.
